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
Nothing left
Face hidden in shadow
Beneath a hood of quills
The pinions 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
Nothing left
Of owl and of raven
Of peacock and dove
Of swan and of sparrow
Woven with her love
Face hidden in shadow
Beneath a hood of quills
The pinions of her raiment
Conceal all her ills