I cannot go on, she says
in the night
it hurts,
 |
| Art by Karol Bak |
and I'm too tired to fight
I have been cut by the dull edge of the blade
Wounded by the quiet rip of the knife
Inside I am alive
but the fear is so bright
that I stumble
in spite of the mourning star's light
I fall and I rise
I am a daughter of Night
Covered in the dust of the trek
the dew washes my wretchedness
So I stand bare before my love:
I am betrothed to Kismet
Walk with me,
mine lover
We shall cut the morrow
like a veil
to protect us
from dispossession
despair and
travail
And our children shall never
be undone
nor shall any blade
rend them apart
 |
| Artist: Lesya Nedzelsky |
to repent and atone
the nights I nearly gave
my life too wantonly
from fear of being alone
Because I nearly succumbed
to that serpent
the King of Loneliness,
the Prince of Despair.
From the likes of the sorrowful
he hears each and every anti-prayer
but the night I cried
without understanding
still, I was guided away
And I tell you, the Heart-Riven,
that moonlight is enough
to guide even tear-blinded strays
thru stones of turmoil
thru the thorns and the brush
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