Pacing in the Cold winds of dawn, Wet grasses clutch my ankles like Macabre fingers— A thousand scrawny ghouls clawing their way From the putrid depths of The Dreaming. Water soaks my sneakers, my toes Squish disturbingly, as though I tread Through fields of spilt intestines, Bodily fluids oozing through The canvas. Above, the full moon shines, Silent. Silver light spilling over the earth, Sparkling, dancing Merrily, in the cold Winds of dawn.
When the clouds press close, and shadows stay, Know that the sun still hides in play. This weight you carry is not forever, And even the darkest ties can sever. Lean on me, if the journey is long, Together we’ll hum a quiet song.
Sing of the Lady of the Night Who treads on sacred, silvered ground, Sways daintily to silent sound, Adorns the sky with silver light, And lingers with the Shades. She is the Goddess of the Dawn, Twinkle of kindness in his eye, The beauty of the midnight sky, Sister to those who dance and mourn, Her love a light that never fades. She is the Mother of us all. Stand still beneath Her watchful gaze; Her light sings of unuttered praise. Sweet Love before the tragic fall— Her endless mercy all pervades. And we emerge from 'neath her spell, As golden light spills 'cross the land, Across the page, over the hand That writes these words, this tale to tell: Her strength endures, and fear abates. The warmth, the joy, the leaping heart That follows as the new day breaks, As softly, hope once more awakes. Despair and doubt now fall apart; There is healing in the Shades.
