"Heron's Song"
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•Het: The Fae Wytch Prince•
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VOLUME I: The Secret Yearnings
•of Rain-Dappled Winglings•
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“Heron’s Song”
My happiness is a crushed fruit with juice that bled into my roots.
So sweet.
I grew to think it was my own blood that was the treat.
Discarded wishes cast like morning dew
My hope wilts dry and remote as the chosen few are plucked
Like baby feathers. To this lonely sound.
I am listening
But missing it’s tune
When the soft nothing comes for me
I will be inside the rain’s lonely croon.
