Mar 14, 2020
Painted
Black feathers, painted gold.
Will the fear that chases,
One day turn me cold?
Sunset reflected, basking glow
I take one step forward,
And my shadow will grow.
Whispers that will speak,
Haunt my waking days.
I feel my spark grow weak.
Chains of the past hold tight
Rumours dare to spread,
As my dusk fades to night.
An ill-omen, a curse to rue
Forgotten promises,
A life reforged anew.
Though from the ashes I dare to rise
The shame will follow
And reveal to open eyes.
A Raven of misfortune,
Who dared to dream
That always was forsaken.
Heed this warning, listen to what you are told
There is no hero here
I'm a Raven, painted gold