"I am the harpy with the white feathers,

As beautiful as a misshapen cloud.

I am a lilac brought to its fullest bloom,

Grown on a gnarled branch,

Daughter of a twisted limb.

I am the red herring that draws the eye, the mind, the heart away from truth until the moment has passed

And all hope of salvation lies shattered beneath the weight of a deception born of a beauty so bold

As to claim it for her own.

I am she who brings the whispers of promise that slip poison into the heart to taint a love that might have been beautiful

Were there not weakness in it.

I am the beautiful banshee torn from a life of love, bliss, and blindness,

Driven from my home among the clouds, ridden by a failing hope that had the audacity to shine its light upon my soul

Until the very last moment when the earth below greeted me with the harsh reality of pain.

I am the bird who was burned by the light of hope,

Scarred by the sweet poison of promise,

And condemned to bear the weight of both in prolonged torment

In the prison of my own soul.

I am the harpy with the white feathers."

-Angelica Whitefeather

[url=http://postimage.org/][img]http://s28.postimg.org/9hleitwcd/Elegant_Harpy.jpg[/img][/url]

[Image copyrighted to its creator, removal upon request.]