What the Owl Sings

A Ballad

Digital illustration based on my sketch

To my tents — do not ride your horse, In your muddy boots — do not come.

Here lives love, here lives a soul, One that walks a path of light alone.

Do not come here — do not wound my heart, For it aches, for it cries aloud.

For in your eyes there burns the fire of life, And in mine — a dark, endless depth.

For the warmth of your hand, your tender embrace — Is far too heavy a price for my lands.

I will raise my wings, and with a gentle leap I will swiftly fly into the azure blue.

There, look for me, there, find me, For I no longer wish to fly alone.

A sketch from my notebook

Text and illustrations by Kateryna Fedotova