Friday, January 18, 2008
I miss my man, that tender flower...
...It was on a deeply violet night he came to me.
Under unquiet sky, I took his innocence...
His exhausted smile and oak leaves in his hair.
Steadfast he was and at my side in tranquil time or war,
but now he's gone a journey and I wait alone.
I mourn my man, I mourn ahead of time,
His lifeless body, laughter fading from my mind...
--"The Song of Coinchend Cennfada"