Copyright RavenBlack, Aperule 1998.
Dedicated to Lady Blake.
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I fly alone, watching shadows, Feeling the air in my wings, on my beak, The quiet sound of distant groundlings. And, behind, a haunting voice. Another like me, in my wake, I spin, no black in the air, no silhouette, But a voice. And her shadow on the ground. I turn, fly on, fly off. Fly. Ahead, the voice calls 'Evermore'. An ebon eye catches mine, Set in pure soul-white, shining, We land, understand, silence. |
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