La Leche
Published:
It was in this haunted place under a moonless cloak of ebony I was drawn to the glow of a young spiritess weeping in the woods The blackest ravens and ice-veiled boughs Have spoken of you, goddess of these bleak woods I yearn for your embrace, spiritess of the melancholia Show me, again, your sweet face Enchant me with your rich, cinder burnt ether Lure me into your arms and bless unto me eternal death She had spoken to the dawn Her words wisped in tongues of the wind And then silence... Pale clouds betrothed the dawn Black rain fell The birds wore masks The haunting stain of her woe Had burned itself into the oak Night had gone Bereaved, I was torn for her One last time I witnessed her beauty in the distance The arms of the trees tore at her morbid gown swaying in the loathsome winter breeze She faded before my eyes Since that day a thousand veiled birds have taken flight And the melancholy rain still pours forever on...
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