This was originally a submission for a contest on another site.
This poem is supposed to take place before all of the End of the World incidents happened. Meaning Raven hasn't told the others about her father, she still hates what she is, she feels so lost and alone, and she thinks that the others won't accept her for what she is.
The "secret" is supposed to be her demonic heritage.
It's definitely not my best – please don't judge my poetic skills by this poem! Unless you love it – then read my other poems and love them, too…
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Tears of a Raven
What is this abnormality?
Something I alone should see?
For if others knew,
surely they would reject me.
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It is with a heavy heart I say:
the true darkness in my heart should stay
in my knowledge alone,
forevermore as well as today
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The way this world works is stunning
and constantly keeps my heart running
is this my truth,
fate's cruel humor and cunning?
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I was created for evil and want to do good
I think and feel this secret should
be kept away,
or at least stay hidden behind my hood.
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Hope is like a mental fire:
fears extinguish, good luck inspire
Mine? A dim light,
always about to expire
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I was brought up in peace and love,
surrounded by flying wings of a dove.
But could this save me?
Only contain me: sides, below and above
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My soul is a smooth black river stone
Seems to have luster, but inside rough and unshown
and it all seems better
if I can remain all alone
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Controlling the secret's incredibly difficult,
my mind a battlefield in ever-lasting tumult.
Nothing will help,
not destroy the reason, no magic or occult.
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I feel overwhelmed by a life of held-back tears.
Held back from my eyes by a life of true fears
of unleashing it,
contained in my body, mind, and soul for years.
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I desperately search for a way out of reality
but I only succeed in being able to see
exactly how lost
I can truly be.
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I try to push this pain away,
but there has never been a day
when I felt
as if I wasn't being led astray.
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My soul is an eternal black
and I truly wish I could go back
to when I was young,
and my life was more intact
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It burns me up from deep inside,
and kills me to know that I can't divide
the dark from the real
and there's not even a way to hide.
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Call for help? I wish I could,
but in reality, there's no way I would.
I'd know it's futile…
I know this isn't the way I should…
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Is there a way to heal this pain?
Can the lightning lead to cleansing rain?
The thunder passes on,
But the storm's wetness will always stay.
-The End-