An Elven Maiden

Black, smudged like a droplet of ink, 

like a pool of water in darkness of eve. 

Black like the blanket of slumber. 

Black is the hair that rolls down her back

and her cloak flowing freely behind her.  

Black is the steed whose hooves kick the air. 

She left in the spring light,

And came in the winter night

With a blackness of silence and care  

A lightness of heart, she might bare,  

But what was formerly shadow

May become the light of places we stare.

(I suck at poetry, sorry. xD)