She Is Wreathed In Starlight

O these broken pieces of me
They are still now, and the dust has fallen on their barren halls
I now take no comfort in the brace of my kin
But only relief in my weeping prayer
That my sorrows would be not in vain

So I turn now, and there in the vision of my mind's eye do I see her

Light takes me

O how fair is she, who walks with tender care and with peace in her gaze
She moves with grace in her wake, and is wreathed in starlight

O these broken pieces of me
That kindle the slow burn again
These cold pieces that have been made warm

Light takes me

I am a foreigner here
Not once have I been welcomed onto the shores of one who would take me
Yet her light beckons, and her call reaches through the forest thicket

In her I find rest from the ravens claw
That has ever torn at the heart of me
In her, there is no bitterness, no ill will in her touch
O these once broken pieces of me

She has given me song
A song which now fills these halls with light and kindness
She has taken me

My wounds sigh no more
They know not their maker
For they are forgotten now, and far away

But cold now has her gaze turned against me
The moon has grown dim
And there is no warmth left in the sun

I have stretched out my hand to her
Yet I cannot reach
My voice calls her song
But she cannot hear

She has turned away from me
And her eyes cast me aside
O these broken pieces of me
In their brokenness they could not see

For where she goes now, I cannot follow
For she is far beyond me