The White Raven

The White Raven


Lost in the mists of ages past
a story’s told of tattered dreams,
of those embracing love steadfast,
refusing to let go, it seems.

There comes a time when it is clear
that feelings, once bright, now have died;
when promises of those held dear
are hollow echoes that deride.

The legend says the raven’s cry
warns of the heartbreak love will bring,
a darkness black as the night sky,
a place where only pain is king.

A raven, white as winter snows,
devours hearts of those now lost.
There’s no escape from its dark throes,
relentless once the threshold’s crossed.

It whispers promises unkept
to torture those whose sight is blind;
it speaks a truth they can’t accept
while fantasies play in their mind.

It sings a song of pain’s relief
if only they will heed its call
until, at last, in false belief
they choose a path that ends it all.

In fading laughter, truth is found
as lungs give up their final breath.
The raven’s voice is just the sound
of hope’s demise that we call death.

An entry for Round 28, "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Image (see above)
Form: Quatrain  
Line Limit: 60
Line Count: 28