Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2077272-2-The-Crow
by J.O.C.
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Fantasy · #2077272
A bard sings a ballad to his small yet colorful audience. (Contains mild language)
As the sun ascends to greet
A nymph awakens from her dream
She comes and twirls, sings and dances
Around her forest of light and flowers
Aware or not, a branch from a tree
In front of this dreary-eyed crow
Reburied feelings resurface
The more he watches the more he smiles
Eyes of forlorn hope shimmer once more
Heart full with ice, warms yet again
Wings chained, unshackle and free
His day brighter and ebullient
Alas time is a two-faced coin
As the sun falls deeper to other realms
How unfortunate she must go
The crow lolls his head and sobs within
With no choice, retreats in agony
Back to his nest of melancholy
Eyes radiant, plunge back to hollow
Heart yearning, recedes to frosty waste
Wings lower, fold beneath the cold sky
He ponders how long will this last again?
Dreading the day she would stop to stay
As he weeps for the sun to hail

         "Sounds like this crow just needs to find a warm place to spend a night," the untidy, one-eyed elf sitting on a log proclaimed, grinning. With a face angular and sharp, most would lump him as a villain of sorts. He paused for a dramatic effect and added, “Like a whorehouse. I know some. Very friendly and real worth the price. Leaves you renewed after you're good and done.” Facing the smokeless campfire, he gave each of his irregular-looking companions a wink of guarantee with his single green eye. “That would solve his problem. A lot.”
         “Sounds like he just needs to confess,” the young dwarf with the pilot goggles countered his, snorting once, and continued, “his real feelings for this nymph, even though it might end badly for him. I'd prefer slowly, getting to know, giving her gifts and such. Like candies. Everyone likes sweets. Mostly.” He was sitting on the ground just opposite the elf. If not for his braided beard and broad physique, many would mistake him as a child. Wiping two streams of tears away and sniffing, he took a small bottle out from his pocket and sprayed droplets of synthetic oil at the fire in the middle of their small camp. It roared and grew with a fiery yellow, producing a strong aroma around them that warded off unnatural predators for a while. He shifted his gaze back to his elfin friend who looked at him with a deadly, wolfish grin. Then the dwarf responded with an innocent smile and opened his mouth, “I think you just need to find true love–someone who doesn’t lift her skirt behind your rear a second you turn away. That way you would no longer see the world in black and shite.” He pretended to clear his throat. “Ser.” From his coat pocket, he pulled out a lollipop and into his mouth.
         “Will you two just quit it and let our guest finish his story?” the gray-haired human lounging in a cot interrupted the two before it sparked into something unnecessary in the middle of nowhere and in a moonless night of terrors. The man's appearance was so average he'd perfectly blend in with the rest of the wheat. He sneezed. His blue eyes fixated at the eerie campfire as he picked his nose carefully. He yawned a forceful one after brushing off the snot.
         “I’m actually an aspiring bard,” the lone half-elf traveler they met on the road told him. “And it’s a ballad called 'The Crow in Twilight,' good ser.” He smiled a tired one and flicked a finger across a string of his lute. A melodious sound followed and echoed, though it died as quickly as it began. “Besides I’m already done for the night. If you don't mind, good sers?"
         The three replied at the same time, but with different responses. "Go ahead," the elf answered. The dwarf merely frowned a little, disheartened that it was over. The human simply gave a shrug, implying he was fine with it.
         "Thank you for listening and letting me stay.” Weary, the bard put his instrument back to its case as though handling a fragile glasswork. He re-positioned himself and lay flat on the ground, clutching a talisman from his neck and saying prayers softly.
         “Good for you,” the human said, nonchalantly. He turned his head away from the bard who was opposite to him and then he each gave his two odd companions a look. “I’m going to sleep now as agreed upon.” He yawned. “Oh, right.” Lazily, he raised a hand and pointed a finger to someone–a milky-white elf with a silver hair–whose body was covered in a rather fine silk sheet between him and the young dwarf. “And unless you want to get a mouthful from our stuck-up sleeping beauty over there, it would now be best to shut them tight. Good night, gentlemen. We still have a long way to go afore we clear our names.”
© Copyright 2016 J.O.C. (riksmarshal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2077272-2-The-Crow