The black crow cries again.
It wakes me up to loneliness.
It reminds me that I am empty.
I have no one but myself and he.
The sky is gray, much like the color of my soul.
I feel a vast mixture of emotions as the crow stares at me.
Pain. Sadness. Grief. Depression. Remorse.
The crow is talking to me.
Telling me to go sit under a rose bush, so I do.
The crow is smarter than I thought.
The pain that I get from being prodded by the thorns of the bush help me to realize something.
Realize that I am high.