The Loving Side of Both White and Black

Once in a time so old, a tale was spoken but not heard

It flew and flapped but never took off; grounded forever as if chained to a rock

And in this time was a wise old man; whose wisdom was told both far and wide

Yet, to believe him so was your end; just like his saying, “What goes up, must come down”

Yes it was this old man, and in his ranting, that proclaimed the high end of a stick

And, power lust, and selfish filled, spoke such words that in their meaning turned ill

He spoke and proclaimed, and rambled and yelled; out to the crowds and deep within scrolls

And he said, and I qouth, to the very end of his days; he said “Love is a most wonderful thing”

True, true—that it is! Let it ring from the heavens; let it pour from youthful rivers and streams

To find one that will be your other half; to be completed until the world ends itself—!

But alas— it faltered; it hit the wall; you don’t know the other side

You don’t know the fearsome mysteries that took that love, beat it senseless; let it die

You don’t know the unholy consequences that this wise old crack of a man made

What he did to gain glory; what he did—he did for himself, that the other would not gain

Let me tell you the sad tale of the black bird stained in white

How he flew to long distances but could never escape his plight

Yes, this old man, who wanted fame beyond it all, wanted to make a bird that love could claim for all

So he schemed and he plotted and he wondered and he sighed

And he hunted for that bird, that bird, who would pay for his greed

And soon he found that bird; a young beautiful raven; black as night, shining was his plumage

And the old man he laughed, then he called out so kind

“Oh, young raven, I’ve a proposition, successful by your wings and by my mind”

And the young raven looked at him, with a stare so blank and anxious

His red eyes bore into the old man, whom rubbed together his greedy hands

“What proposition is this? “Cried the raven, his voice so light and flighty

“It’s a proposition to be an idol!” said the man, “All you need is to say yes, and glory will be yours!”

Poor raven, oh, poor raven, he never would know his fate

Wrapped up in an important scheme, founded by the mind of a dark being

“Yes.” Croaked the raven, and he followed the man inside, to his doom and future being

And the man he explained, and stated, all it complicated, that young Raven would be born anew

And it was white; the paint he chose, it was whiter than the moon

And covered poor raven, in a glossy coat; on each feather; its black colors now fade forever

And when the man was done, he applauded and cheered, set down his brush and fetched for a mirror

And then he showed young raven, who croaked in surprise, and spoke in words only to bring demise

“Young raven, you are born anew, your colors are now changed, no black, for they are white”

“And now forever shall you fly as a symbol of love; young raven your new name shall now be ‘Dove’”

So then flew did the raven, flew high in his painted white; over land and over sea

Bending light and bending dark, his new symbol made his mark

And forever was he known, as the “Dove, the bird of love”

But that’s the happy ending; no one knows the darker side

No one knows the tragic ending of the black bird turned to white

Was it then that no one thought that, the white paint would end young Raven so?

Yes it’s true, it would end him so; but that old man made sure that no one should ever know

He hid the story, but from him I found it, the parts that laid deceiving him in his eyes

Even demons can’t hide their schemes from the angel’s eyes

So soon after did young Raven fly halfway around the world

Bringing joy and bringing hope, in the eyes and hearts of lovers

And he flew and he sang, and he laughed and he fluttered high

So happy with his role he did not notice that the paint had started to dry

But when the pain first struck at the core of his wings, did he then realize the man’s true schemes

And when his wings would move no more, did he fall in the sky,

Filled with broken dreams on his broken wings, as he plummet to the sea

Tears and pain they left his eyes, and yelling so loud, did the world hear his cry

“Don’t trust the wicked man and his evil schemes, don’t trust his ways; don’t believe what he says”

“For I have fallen from the highest of my roost, because I trusted him with no more than a ruse”

“He promised me a future, with a love for the world, and changed me from a black to a white bird”

“He gave to me a new name, a symbol for the newest love, Soft as settling light I was known as Dove”

“And I flew around the world, bringing joy unto you all, but little did I know that I would no sooner fall”

“White may seem pure; its color and its reason; but at least in black I wasn’t judged for its treason!”

“And now I’m falling headfirst into the sea; on broken dreams and broken wings; I am not free”

“And I will die, I surely know, my body will break and my heart and soul to heaven will go”

“But before I die, I wish to speak the language of my own; in darkened tones of all I’ve ever known”

“Trust not the man, and let him be cursed; for lies that widely were discussed and dispersed”

“But do not give up on love, it still will remain; In the dead of night, echoed in my brethren’s frame”

“Don’t trust the evil man, I scream it from my core; Let these last words haunt him, ‘No, Nevermore!”

And so he fell into the sea, where the foaming water washed him clean

And black feathers covered the water, reminding the world of the lost bird

And that’s why Love spoken of, it has its darker side

Not based on truth, but the lie, wrought up by that man with darkness in his eye

And that’s also why ravens seem to follow death in reminder of their own

The old man’s lie, “Love is a Wonderful Thing” it won’t be spoken, no Nevermore…