Dead Revival

Hello again divorced wife, can you believe that now I'm a raven?
I died following our divorce last year, so god granted me a rebirth from heaven.
I am not a caged human anymore, I fly in flocks with wings,
Even enacting human speech if taught, and I do know how to sing.

I always try to hum at your window, singing our past life lore,
I don't do it through words, but I see you smiling at me with hopes.
I always remembered your rituals of feeding all the crows,
Your religion said, every crow was a human once, who died and became a door.

So I became one of them too, reborn near your balcony,
Thinking if I talk now, we'll live this life in harmony.
You feed every crow from a distance, and throw breadcrumbs at me,
I consume them all because they're cooked by you beautifully.

But my long lost wife, whenever I try to get too close,
I see you loudly screaming in disgust and stereotyping my race of crows.
I see the contradiction of your human nature calling me ugly and divine,
Worshipping me when I'm distant and shoving me away when I give a sign.

I see your windows shutting down when I enact human speech,
You shut your ears tight when I come up with past life's apologies.
You notice the way I speak too clear, and confess every fault of mine transparently,
Calling me too loud and pretending to unhear it all, you pelt every stone at me.

I watch myself in the mirror with guilt, unlike any other crow,
I see myself darker than all, because I became a raven so that you could easily know.
You knew my favourite colour was jet black right? I don't remember if I even told you that,
And like many things left unsaid in our marriage, I took a rebirth to speak facts.

But when you still misunderstand me, I scream to explain myself now and then,
You stereotype me further as a performative crow, and stop feeding me my bread.
So I further fall in a loop of believing my rebirth as a curse,
A life where I beg for your charity of breadcrumbs, and my soul is looked upon like dirt.

I hate your way of loving me for a limited time in my human life,
Withdrawing it all when I had been a bad husband, without my chance to apologise.
Your grudge lasted longer than our marriage, people still spit on my human photo frame,
I rot in guilt that I couldn't express as a human, and spoke as a crow too late.

I hate how the human in you calls my new version, a ghost of your husband,
To unsee all my words and punish me on purpose, making me all anxious and fumble.
I fly naked and exposed, all in open screaming, with your silence as a response,
Being pictured as your evil ex-husband to humans again, and all deciding to wipe me off.

- Mohnish