The Swan, Part One

A shadow glides on a mirror of black Through waters still, no way to turn back Its wings unfold, pale as the moon A silent lament in a world of ruin Beneath the surface, a current stirs Drawing the swan where silence occurs Its gaze reflects the weight of time A spectral hymn, forlorn, sublime The ripples fade, a fleeting trace As dusk descends with a cold embrace Its mournful cry, a ghostly refrain Echoes through the dusk, through endless pain The swan drifts on through shadowed tides A fragile soul where despair resides And as it sinks, the waters consume A graceful descent to eternal gloom