I dreamt that while in restless slumber
Death beckon'd with his sweet caress.
He pulled me to a chasm deep,
buoyant by its harsh duress.
His whisper was a smooth temptation
which Dante abhorred, and Byron craved;
and walking through the circle gates,
the road upon I stepped was paved
with sins of the father, of flesh, of spite,
I grasped tighter to my captor's hand.
I saw that life in its every glory
was nothing but minute grains of sand.
A desert span a lifetime wide
with lamentations of souls long lost
carried through the misty morn;
a choice was offered - but with a cost.
My lovers eye, he held me still,
I dared not move, for hope in vain,
the seeds of love, a mothers pain.
Away! Epona to cry tears of woe
Upon a desolate Earth.
For in staying power springs anew
I shall bring thee naught but mirth.
Hlāfmæsse shall bring forth new tidings of warmth
and thy shall hold me in thy arms again,
Until then, however, I must reside
and atone for a lover's sin.
Upon awakening, I drew a breath,
shakily wiped a single tear.
For knowing love's true entity beckoned,
and I had come so near.
Do not doubt, ye gentle folk
to hasten from his touch.
Widen thy arms, embrace it gladly,
for it matters much.