A three legged crow, one day he shone, brighter than he ever had,
looking as if he gleamed with joy, as if he's never been free before,
He was covered in light, but he slowly lost the life he has ever clad,
In the silence of the vantablack, he whimpered the life he had.

The mistress who had bathed in his warmth was sad to watch him depart,
Slowly she would feel the cold of loneliness breathing down her nape,
Her children would meet death's embrace, tearing the mother and child apart,
Leaving the lonely mother to weep with a veil of snow that she would drape,
The universe would watch her silently, as if in this tragedy he had no part.