Tag Archives: feathers

The Dying Swan

The haunting notes of Tchaikovsky satiates the emotions of its listeners; and as the dancing swans pirouette effortlessly and transversely upon the stage, the spectators will gasp in horror as the one I love falls to her death. I have witnessed her demise a thousand times; and my heart never fails to be wounded. Her blood seeps through layers of tulle and feathers, in the same moment that her dark-shaded eyes close and the curtains fall. As I rise from my seat for what will be the last time, I enter the dark streets alone; knowing that her gaze had never met mine, knowing that she never knew how enthralled I was by her beauty.

©2013.alittlebirdtweets

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The Raven

That day had been notorious. I had strolled across the tribe-island where I had glimpsed a raven perched sternly upon a birch branch. I had gazed at it but had not met its eyes. My grandma had warned me over again as a young boy to never look, not even in a time of weak curiosity. I would question why and she would reply, ‘Danton, it will bring with you much danger and bad luck. The red gleam of light that comes from a ravens’ eyes will weaken the soul of any that look into them; just like the sun is danger to eyes on a searing day.’ I had gazed at the black plumage of the raven perched there as I recalled her words, and my feet had become unsteady with terror. It had begun to squawk, to make a racket with its heavy wings; then it had flown from the branch, over the bank towards me; the shadow of its span had buried me into darkness, and my legs had begun to crumble beneath me. Its sharp beak had struck my head many times. I had fallen to the ground in pain, in silence, frozen with fear. Then it stopped, and as I looked at it I had witnessed my own blood stains drenched in its feathers; red on black luminous plumage; so beautiful, so ugly. Then it had flown into the sunset horizon, leaving me marred with its violence. I was twelve years of age on that notorious day, and there has been no day pass since, when I haven’t looked a raven in its eyes.

©2013.alittlebirdtweets

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Poetry and Prose

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