Raven With a Painted Face.

A ravens feather lies in silence,
Sound and safe.
A true memoria
Of a summer facade.

It sits and contemplates,
Of from which it came.
Somber in the womb,
For which it crave.

A light shed on the,
For told the basilisk snake.
Dye your feather,
See a new day.

Awaken the dawn with an empty smile.
Pleade for the dusk within solitudes trial.
Ceize the day,
And become a new..
Or fade away,
Along with the conforming few.

Join the masquerade for an hour or two.
Dance and rave with the river snake..
A sense of belonging,
Or an enigma of you?

And as the rivers tide arose to shore,
The raven withered and  erode once more.
Leaving behind one feather,
That shall never be restored.

Its tint of blue,
Has yet to fade.
But never,
Never..
Shall it match the paint,
Of the ravens face.