The Raven King

There was once a bird, born aflame,

An eagle warrior, fighting love’s hard game.

In a world of wonder, in a nest of light

his blood gave him courage, ever bright.

The days were sunny, aloft aflame,

None would be happy for him to blame,

a life of joy, he would love to say,

loved eternally every day.

As the sun set on the shade of darkness

Death came to bless him with madness.

His skin turned to ash, his eyes black as night,

His heart in pain with great fright.

A king was born, of his own delight

an eternal pillar, he could never again take his flight.

Forced to watch, in pain and wonder

how life can move with nothing to offer.

A raven alone, with blackness of heart,

A claw that would always tear him apart.

Cursed to gaze the world on wing’s foot,

To see everything, but never loot.

A throne of oak to rest upon,

Deeply rooted in memories bygone,

Ashes that turn to dust,

and forever dance with the withering rose he must.

Rainbows shone in the form of her lips,

As she reveals her gaze like wondering ships.

With a breath warm as her beating heart,

her eyes call him, they play their part.

She’s an angel, crystal clear,

Flying close, her warm breath near.

Itching down on his ashen skin

A new dawn is set to begin.

Setting fires, shining on his heart,

Flown like a flame the Phoenix was set to start.

An age of passion for a crimson flower,

Death on destiny never again had power.

And he could fly again in sunny skies,

With feathers like blood written lies,

a dance of fire, burning like an ember,

between the Angel and the Phoenix would shine forever.

At the very point of sooth,

A thief in white to light the truth,

As she stole his flaming spark

The angel flew, she stole my heart.