The critical gaze A crows eye view Sweet Mary’s voice The poisonous spew It’s haunting at best Dull pains in the chest When a child is born One need just invest When questions are seeds Of doubt and remorse To spin us in circles Before We set course But life is the temple With faiths to explore Sweet Mary’s voice We hear her no more A heart that is bruised A head still confused By preachings and teachings Of shadows abused As the crow flys So ends the day A Gentle breeze all what’s left of The Critical Gaze 🦅