Avians Of Quests

To watch a hoyl wilt with weight of self-majesty blacks my royal eyes. I must not lift 

To fall feathered against your brackled sternum, else you shall fall fowl to 

The elusive Persephone of tyrianed rivers. Instead, I shall become a watcher 

Of the ancient minority, placed against amethyst foliage and proud even in 

Inherent denouncement. 

Moonstones are patient against iridescent plummage. We may look in the same 

Direction, but our purposes marry not. Still you remain against minutes and days. 

Patient as your myth for the azure pyre which calls your end. At littlest, you await

The ember which announces your beginning. But then no longer shall you be

My high hoyl. 

I pass under amaranth skies to gnarled violet topiary above your crest. Cosmic white 

Though I am, beauty lies within contrast. It is this that presses Persian rocks to 

Stare at the old, and the quiet. Still yet I am starred against nobility, and your half

Mooned eyes fail to notice. Flail my untouched wings and cry out to phthalo oceans.

Blacken me.

Author's Note

Jewish mythology includes the story of the hoyl—a bird that, like the phoenix, is devoured by divine fire only to rise from its own ashes. Legend says that after Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, Adam offered the fruit to all of the animals. The hoyl bird was the only one that refused to eat the fruit that God had said must never be eaten. As a reward, the hoyl received a kind of immortality. It never dies but only goes to sleep, after which fire destroys it. An egg remains, however, and from that egg a full-grown hoyl hatches anew.

Reviews

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

Ah, thank you for the author's note. I was a bit lost on the 'hoyl' thing. I researched it and it only returned reference to musicians and such (people with that name).
Well, with the definition renewed under the given definition I would definitely venture far enough to say that this is an exquisite work.
A tale of decline, lovely, lovely.
100/100

[Shep]

Question what is a hoyl? An less you ment an owl. If so this works as I feel the wind below me and hills around you. Nicely done.

[Joe Shetina]

I am drawn to your word choice most of all. You choose words that portray just the right image.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A most tragic affair of unbrideled relentless passion and forlonging. The themed abstenece of cratic ablivioin, really opens the mind to the purest sense of words, well done, a great read.