"Whispers of the Night: The Crow's Melody"

In the quilt of blackest night it takes its flight,
A messenger of stories hidden in plain sight,
Oh mysterious bird draped in sable coat so stunning,
A graceful echo of a ballad eerily sung - a crow, a bird of night.

It croaks the tales of time's weary waning,
Eyes as deep as tunnels where the stars are raining.
Not an angel, nor a demon - a being of balance, in twilight,
An elusive scribe of the universe - a crow, a bird of night.

Ever the watcher in the world, it perches high,
A silhouette against the purple twilight sky.
Tales whispered by the wind's gentle might,
Are carried aloft on raven wings - a crow, a bird of night.

Its caw echoes in the moss-strewn ancient woods,
Their tales woven into the trees, understood.
In the quiet, hear the wisdom of forgotten light,
Brought forth from the shadows - a crow, a bird of night.

Harbinger of wisdom or symbol of strife?
A lens into the mysteries of life,
Each caw a sonnet, a solitary flight,
A bearer of secrets - a crow, a bird of night.

Veiled in the obsidian cloak of eventide,
Where moon's secrets and its wisdom reside.
It soars through dreams, to unreachable height,
A silhouette in the void - a crow, a bird of night.

To the crow, the enchantress bathed in eventide's glow,
Keeper of wisdom that mortals yearn to know.
May your flight be eternal, your wisdom ever bright,
For you are the poet, the muse - a crow, a bird of night.

This story was generated by user joshua71 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

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