Without feather or wing,
Upon the winds of fate,
Fly forth the ravens,
with a hunger to sate.
Quiet as the passing wind,
dark as the shadowy night,
deadly as a crouching tiger,
ever looking for a fight.
A soul tarnished by death,
A riddle found and solved,
a person's life snuffed out,
and a member is welcomed into the fold.
So harken all ye new recruits,
to this message laid down to thee,
for should thee solve this here riddle,
a raven forever shall thee be.
Golden rings are laid to rest,
inside dead trees of old,
look for me with raven's kin,
in the direction a raven flies when cold.
Let 7 be thine answer.
_________________ Duck
Last edited by ducksternator on Tue Nov 03, 2009 9:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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