The Raven's Hopskotch

i know the title sounds like an oxymoron. u never write dark stuff like ravens in the same line as hopskotch. but that's exactly my attempt, to make hopskotch sound malignant :P...again, a creation in a very boring chem class on fuels :)), and as always, the usual 4X6 poem format (i think i wont be able to do anythin but that till i die :P)...hope u guys like it...

Pray that it should never land,

On the hallowed square of your name.

For then will fall upon you, death's hand,

As the raven plays on its macabre game.

With a hop, skip and jump, it'll seal your fate,

As its minions disperse to carry out its decree.

You have but to give in, without a word of debate,

You can plead or fight, but you will not be free.

But one wonders, is the claw that rises,

In death, the hand of Satan after all?

Whether the game isn't really full of surprises,

If it is already writ when you shall fall?

Should a life be led in the shadow of fear?

As your innocent universe spins and warps.

But the pleasures of existence are still too dear,

A life shallow is still life, a corpse still a corpse.

The high words and mighty courage of lore,

Are the possessions of men with nothing to lose.

But for the many meager masses, lies nothing in store,

Except for a hope that their plead is of some use.

Hence they pray that it should never land,

On the hallowed square of their name.

For then will upon them, death's hand,

As the raven plays forever, its macabre game.