Directionless resurrectionist

Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute,
One miss crow, who, by force of a certain stranger,
Had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will.

Resulting from this invasion came,
An aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name,
A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature
To be expelled from the womb in late november.
A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow.
From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow.

He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent,
A resident of fantasy, living a life of lament.
He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend.
Yet his friends were to call him carrion,
The friends inside his head...