Poem, positive, vague mention of death, love 

A single black feather,
Left behind as a gift to the livings,
For them to understand that not a raven,
But a queen has taken this soul.

Goddess among gods,
Lady of the battlefield,
Stronger than any living soul,
Keeper of the fallen.

This one time,
The feather wasn't black,
But shining with bright colors,
Sign of a glorious destiny.

This feather, it is mine.
Bestowing light upon my path,
An aegis for every step I take,
I will stand stronger than all.

For I have fallen in love with my Queen.

Suivre

For once, I wrote something happy (at least to my eyes) and I'm glad of it.

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