.:Warring:.

Black feathers. Rose petals.
Constantly fighting, never ceasing in their struggle to prevail over one another.
The Pain
and the Love
and the Ache
and knowing that there will always be that
l
 i
  n
   e
of misunderstanding, the words unsaid, the looks not caught.

The hidden feelings, the light behind the eyes. The things never passed between the two.
Always fighting.
Living.
Warring.
Rose petals. Black feathers.
Not dark and light.
But maybe
emotion
and common sense?

The feathers slice and sting and tear. They hurt.
But the petals trap them, smother them.
Feathers silenced.
Petals victorious.
Until the ebony shards force their way through and scar the night.

The petals heal and sooth and console. They calm.
But the feathers need to breathe, and break free.
Petals destroyed.
Feathers released.
Until the roses wrap their thorns around them and choke them silent once more.