Gilded Cages, Raven Wings

Previously

…The poems she had written then were a desperate attempt to capture lightning in a bottle, to hold onto the fading embers of a love that had burned too brightly, too briefly. They were a testament to the illusion of permanence, a desperate clinging to a past that was now irrevocably gone. She had loved him with a ferocity that bordered on madness, a passion that had consumed them both, leaving behind only the ashes of what might have been. And in those ashes, the raven had found its perch, its shadow a constant reminder of the love that was, and could never be again.