screenshot by Brynleigh
Will you falter, son of many
And hold your step
At the edge of the dark wood, the gate ever starless
Where mine is the shadow, walking under the brush
Where roots rise from the ground, blooms stir to open
Pressing closer to whisper
Sister, who comes ?
Will you sleep, drowned in the Entwash
And stare up as stars dance the surface
Where the breath of my shadow, Mist on the River
Shifts with spirits on the sway of the deep
Where fish give new names to the corpses
Will you roam alone across Wyrthing, bare beneath the moon
Where the barley rows shiver, and hush the land to slumber
Where my shadow has carried a candle, floating afar
And has been the voice at the window
That draws the child from her bed
Ever to wander the night
Will you walk the trapper's passage
Where the first hunter was lost
Following the scent of a woodfire, and the shape of a maid
Deep through the gloom and the feather-moss
Amid the rustle of night creatures
Chirping from hidden hollows
Where last he lay
And the arms of my shadow weighed on his chest
And taught him the sound of wanting
Will you wait on the mountain, wait on the perch
And watch the dusk fall
Until the song of its warning withers
Under the rising call ?
For the vales grow black, and the night air beckons
And the secrets of our land will ensnare you.
