Between the golden setting sun,

And oncoming white moon,

Sits the blackbird all alone,

Midst the calming river's tune.

Hung in mid eternity,

Guided by the stars,

Feathers, groomed and smoothed with love,

Hide month-old battle scars.

Perched between the demon's lair,

And where pure doves reside,

Is the blackbird strong in heart,

Willed and brave in every stride.

Easily he could slip away,

Beyond the good earth's reach,

And listen without questioning,

To what the dark lords teach.

And yet he chooses to stay up,

In his tulip tree.

I wonder is it innocence,

That keeps him here with me?

Or is he wiser than we thought,

And hears those demons well,

And chooses to stay perched aloft,

Live mortal and rebel!

Con/crit appreciated! This one has gone thorugh much revision already though...