Floating heavy,
feathers soaked.
Bleeding dry,
as frogs cloaked.
The river bed,
inviting him,
to rest his head.
No longer alive,
but not quite,
yet dead

How strange a rise,
in his eyes,
a new form,
heart to storm.
Deep breath quicken,
once was stricken,
no longer sicken,
Raven,
Now arise.

Clambering to shore,
fate no more.
A new heart grew,
out of death's brew,
for he has one task,
left to do.
To slay the last dark,
Herald light's lark.
And end sorrow,
as a final mark.

05/10/2015