They were picking a soul
one so papery white
her flesh was so cold
as she swallowed the night

It inked through her hair
and imprinted her view
with dreams of sad ravens
with dreams of theirs too

They thought she stole heaven
with her hearts on a string
and they knew they must have it
this very rare thing

So they pecked at her throat
until the beads were set free
and laughed as they cawed
at what joy there would be

When they owned these fine gems
these beating red hearts
these clocks of the body
these fragile lifestarts

Yet they forgot the balance
the sensitivity of love
that shifted these jewels
as they fell from above

Tiny hearts they all scattered
tiny hearts they all flew
and the ravens then bid her
a sorrowful adieu.