Cloak of Feathers
John J.D. Cronise / The Sword
She wore a cloak of feathers
And rode a mare of purest white
A silver chalice in her hand
A look of sadness in her eyes
A thing of beauty to behold
But a sorrow to possess
She'll take all that you offer
Until there's nothing left
Face hidden in shadow
Beneath a hood of quills
The pinion of her raiment
Conceal all her ills
Beneath her cloak of feathers
Lies a body soft and fine
Eyes of hazel green
Flowing hair as dark as wine
A thing of beauty to remember
But a sorrow to forget
She took all that i gave her
Till there was nothing left
Of owl and of raven
Of peacock and dove
Of swan and sparrow
Woven with her love
Face hidden in shadow
Beneath a hood of quills
The pinions of her raiment
Conceal her ills