Crow and me

Crow and me,
we were fighting over
a bit of bread,
wings flapping,
his beak closed over my nose,
over my fingers,
waking me up
in the middle of the night.

As I lay staring at the ceiling,
needing calm against the dark,
it came to me:

to Belphegor my wealth of words,
to Asmodeus my care for my clan,
to Belial my care for the earth
and to my wife
all of the above and my love −

as they in their aspect
are not fallen in my book
and I am no fodder to them.

I needed to free myself
of the dream – no need
for war over food
when all I needed was life:

a wealth of words,
a clan to share the words,
earth for the roots of my
love