Dracula Rat

The Omen

In the vast, where worlds go unregarded,

There stood a city—Baltimore—

Set beneath a brooding sky.

No star took note.

Yet through its streets a voice broke forth—

Unbidden, harsh, and uncontained—

It tore through foul litter and overfilled cans,

And would not be denied.

Above, in watchful stillness,

A black-winged form perched—

A raven set upon the wire, unshaken—

To mark what lay below—and what would rise.

And in a narrow alleyway,

Where rust and broken iron lay,

A moment pressed upon the world…

And something answered from below.