In Bereft land, the Raven flies! Birth: Peep! Peep! We call. You and I look up to see: Resplendent glory, the Raven. We open our mouths to partake of the Raven’s fruit and the Raven satisfies strong flowing, deep currents, of Desire. But we bite the hand, the meal is insubstantial, we punish the Raven, but she knows it not.