She sat there looking up to the sky,
the wind blowing in her face.
The stars danced with their reflection, standing on the ocean.
The breeze caressing the trees.
Tall grass swayed, nothing was heard but the melody of the wind.
It was just all the colors of the world that seemed to blend.
The mixture of texture and hue.
A grain of color and sand.
The wind died down,
and the girl looked away.
Moments later the clouds covered the moon, and silver rain fell.
Tapping at the window was a crow,
warning the girl of this hell...
Lighting of red and maroon struck,
the navy sky turned back to blue.
The crow was gone. But the question was.. Who?
Who sent the demon down to earth,
who warned her of the rage..
Who told her all the mysteries,
that weaved throughout the age.
All that remained at the window,
not a drop of rain or the bird,
but a black feather covered in blood, letting everyone see..
This terrible history.
