# Wings of the Raven

Author: ShingetsuMoon
Tags: Fursona, Poem, Poetry, Raven

#15 of National Poetry Writing Month

This poem is about my third and final fursona, Kazana the raven. The poem is about him and the personal connection I feel for him.

* * *

One created to represent  
that which I long to be.   
Another who bears the   
scars of my harsh reality.

A third to lift my heart  
and spread joy in ways  
that I could only dream of  
doing on my own.

A raven with wings of   
black and teal.

Intelligent and cunning.  
Wise and outspoken.  
Always with a word to say.  
Always the center of attention  
instead of sitting in the shadows  
watching the world go by.

I am the one who waits for  
something to happen. He is the   
one who creates action.   
Drama.  
Life.

I sit patiently on the sidelines  
wary of the crowds and content  
to watch as the best moments in  
life pass me by.

He is the one the one at the center  
of attention. Thriving off the energy   
of the crowd. He is not content to  
sit and watch or pause or wait. He   
does not wait for the moments to  
come he creates them with a dazzle  
and a flair.

He is bold and outspoken. Never   
hesitating to say what must be said.  
He is not shackled by silence and fear  
like I am.

He will not stand by in silence while   
someone else mocks or quiets the voice  
of another.

He is the voice I wish I had.  
He is the confidence I dream of  
when I am too afraid to take part  
in the action.

He is light and darkness and fun  
and wisdom and smooth words  
and confidence and bold outspoken  
reality.

He speaks truth with every breath  
and does not worry about the opinions  
others hold of him when he dares to  
say that which others will not.

He is my confidence.  
He is the soul that gives me wings.  
He is the voice of boldness that I   
desire when there is something that  
needs to be said. He does not tolerate  
fools or stand by idly while the loud  
unceasingly interrupt the quiet.

He is the light to my darkness.  
The sun to my shadows.   
He is the illumination that fills  
my soul and my heart.

I may long for the heart of a lion or  
remember the lonely tears of the oryx,   
but more than anything else... I long for  
the wings of the raven.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/k1VBAZG1
Part of the series National Poetry Writing Month
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