Sunday, February 24, 2008

The Raven's Cry

The tears are streaming down her face:
Falcon's splendor, peace of dove;
Her arms locked in feathered embrace
Around the one she's come to love.
She never would have guessed before:
Stubborn, proud; her hatred burned!
Bound to him forevermore
Till he expressed care and concern.
Tomorrow will bring wings of change,
Freedom would be understood;
But winds of fate demand exchange:
Their love for the greater good.
Yet high above where eagles soar
Will always sound the raven's caw.


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Repeat after me: I have no talent. (I have no talent.) Jonny has all the talent. (Jonny has all the talent.) If I'm lucky, some of Jonny's talent will rub off on me. (If I'm lucky, Mr. Talent will rub his tentacles on my art.)

Wow. Just... wow.
The Edna Man

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