Feathers dance across porcelain skin,
Raining down from high above,
Coating it in a river of ebony
And kissing scars from a broken heart.
Snow glistens like diamonds in the harvest moon lit night,
Its luminescence captivating and soothing to a weary mind;
Wandering animals scamper to burrows for slumber,
Lulled to sleep by a passing rumble of thunder.
Faint cries of an exhausted raven sound off tall trees,
Leaving prying eyes to scour the leaves to find nothing
But a distant haunting feeling,
As if being watched by someone or something.
The ebony feathers dance across bloody red roses,
Delicate, vibrant, colors mixing in the fire
That is mother nature's beautiful soul;
And of this scene, none shall tire.
