Welcome to Gaia! ::

Based on the following song, “At The Night’s Plutonian Shore” by Dark at Dawn:

Again the dawn draws nearer
And brings the fiery sky
The songbirds sing the earliest lullaby

I wish you will remember
When once you’ll hear me cry
You’ll have to, for I’ll never leave your side

Turn to black and disappear whenever she awakes
Wings just leave a shadow on her face
Beams so bright, it hurts my eyes and burns me from inside
Victim of the unjust tide of light

Each day I see you wonder, you wonder at my kind
Please be undaunted, shape is just a lie
The friend who was the liar, the wretch that brought you sleep
Oh, tempter, let him burn each time I weep

Beams so bright, it burns my eyes and hurts me from inside
Victim of the unjust tide of light

I guard your sleep, my dear
I implore you to forgive me
At the night’s plutonian pier

“…and my soul from out that shadow
That lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore.” (E.A. Poe – The Raven)

Tears of a Raven

A bird alit on her windowsill, blinked and pecked once upon the pane. Immediately she opened the window, and immediately the bird – a magnificent large raven – fluttered in and perched on her shoulder. She shut the window again, and raised her arm. The raven hopped onto her wrist, and she began to stroke its glistening feathers. Its eyes seemed filled with joy and intelligence, and it nuzzled its head against her palm in response to her actions.
She gazed at the raven, marveling at its plumage. While most of the black birds she saw had unclean feathers, dull and unattractive, this raven’s feathers were immaculate, shining in the light cast by her lamp. Rainbows seemed to dance along the feathers as the bird shifted, placing its claws carefully so it did her no harm. These rainbows were reflected in her eyes; she felt a love for this nameless, beautiful bird so deep that it seemed ridiculous. It was like a flame within her, illuminating her from within. A moment it seemed, that she stood there stroking this bird in silence, yet when she came to herself again the sun had set and it was hours later. The bird was still just as affectionate as before.
She caressed it one last time, savoring the sensation of the soft feathers under her fingertips, smiling to herself even as an absurd sadness overwhelmed her, an unwillingness to stop stroking this beautiful, wonderful raven of hers. For she felt it was hers, though it was a wild animal it always returned to her. The raven’s eyes shone as well, seeming too to be wet in the dim light, as she opened the window once more, set the bird down outside it and whispered a goodbye. Then she hesitated, and left the window open. She leaned over and whispered to the raven, “So you can come and go as you like. I’ll always leave it open for you.” And, kissing those soft shimmering feathers lightly, she turned and prepared for bed, lay down and closed her eyes. Soon enough, she was asleep, dreaming a peculiar, impossible dream that she lived so vividly it felt real.


* * * * *

The raven waited until it felt she was deeply asleep, heard her slow rhythmic breathing, then fluttered silently into her room and onto her carpet. Then, it stretched its wings wide and flapped them once, and in its place stood a young man of perhaps twenty. His skin was very pale, his obsidian hair long enough to reach his waist. It gleamed dimly in the darkness, rainbows dancing subtly within the silken layers. His eyes were solidly black, and he was dressed in a close-fitting shirt of black satin that shimmered with the same spectrum as his hair, as did his loose pants of the same smooth material. He regarded her with tears in his dark eyes, reached out and touched her cheek very lightly, barely brushing his skin against hers.
His eyes spilled their tears in a silent, invisible stream of loving sorrow. This nameless man, an unnamed raven, stood there and wept noiselessly, his hands making no move to brush away his tears. She was so beautiful to him; a halo of rich brown hair framed her sleeping visage, her face lightly peppered with freckles. Her elegant, delicately-formed hands were folded over her stomach as she slept, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Her face, smooth elfin features relaxed in a deep slumber, a slight smile playing across her lips as her subconscious noticed his touch upon her cheek.
The young man leaned over and kissed those lips softly, and whispered with a deep cool voice, “I love you … sleep well, dear heart.” Then he straightened, closed his eyes and tilted his face upwards, and the raven stood there again. It hopped onto a chair, onto the sill and out the window, flying off into the darkness of the night.

* * * * *

She awoke in the morning with a smile still on her lips; it had been a wonderful dream. Far too bad that it had been just that – only a dream. She sighed and wished that it had been true, knowing it couldn’t have. Then she got out of her bed and stretched and her gaze fell on her pillow. She gasped, unbelieving, and lunged forward, snatching up what had lay beside her head when she woke: A single black feather, shimmering with inner rainbows. She looked out the still-open window and found that, on a branch of a tree that grew right outside her window, a raven perched.

And in a tree beside a young girl’s house, a raven thought, “If only I was human…” then flew from the branch, winging its way to an uncertain future.

I must say that I really liked it. It was short and sweet, almost like a poem but with more stuff in it (that's my poetic discription for you...). Keep it up!