Silvery flakes drifted down
Glittering in the bright light
Of the harvest, the blackbird looked up
And knew it was time
To open his dark wings
To set off into the night
He felt and saw the piles
The moon gracing the earth
Letting itself fall from its
Sanctuary, only for the bird

Silver and white flake falling off of it,
The harvest moon was full
Yet still filling the whole sky
They landed on the blackbird,
His feathers covered by the
White, like those of who
He wanted to be like them

Now instead of the dark of night
The blackbird saw the bright
Beautiful white
He saw the doves
And he joined them
They knew no difference
He was just another dove
With white feathers

The blackbird looked up once more
To see that there were no
More pieces of the moon, he wanted
It to never stop
For the moon to forever let
Pieces of itself fall to the black bird
So that he may be a dove
And cast off his black feathers

His darkness uncovered
The blackbird went away
From the beauty, from the doves
And back to his lair
Awaiting the next time
That the moon decided that
It shall one again descend
When the blackbird will become a dove