sword, the
cloak of feathers
she wore a 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 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 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