The Hidden
By Tarnia N
Published 6 July 2021
Crows,
Black wingspan,
Filled with ruin.
Their cries a child's scream,
Deafening.
Eyes like the sun,
Blinding to the human eye.
The opposite.
Birds with no fear,
Apparently,
But what's inside?
The unknown?
Dread.
Terror.
Reflection like mirrors.
But we still choose to stare,
Keep our distance,
And run far away.
Hide.
From the unknown.