...

The wingbeats loft me through the sky
As I fly through an oft broken land
Believing in more than the nothing I see
Chasing a thin goss'mer strand

Stooping to perch on a fire-blasted limb
Feather's as black as the night
Resting a body to weary to flee
Yet lacking the spirit to fight

A stormcrow battered by hurricane winds
By hail and sleet beaten down
A messenger wounded, but still standing strong
Wearing his pride like a crown

A flash of white moves against backlit skies
I hurl myself to the chase
Dodging through lightning, the rain coming down
Slashing like knives while we race

My will is the stronger, my cause I think right
The race I was not born to lose
The trial is faced, the reward still to claim
'Tis only now what you may choose

One perfect instant in the bleak barren land
Darkness and brilliance are one
Shadow and light can course through the skies
Clouds break 'fore the might of the sun

Then the one falls, and she plummets to earth
Lost to the sight of the first
A soul once regained, now splintered once more
Leaving nothing but hunger and thirst

Did Fate strike her down, flitting to earth
Did gravity make itself known?
Or did the dove dive, a new path to seek
One she must find on her own.

This foolish old crow, flies once more alone
Left with mistakes I must claim
The choices I made were writ' long before
And I've only myself left to blame.

The meek may prosper, but the prideful shall fail
E'en more when they seek to find love
A foolish choice made, now the consequence yield
A Raven gone courting a Dove.