Hearken the End

Mourning, in wind whipped flesh
Sadness, befalls my heart
Blood falls, as a spring doth flow
The stream of tears must end

I stand with withered soul
Alone in my sorrow
Neath the branches of ancient oak
The stream of tears must end

The will of my kin is met with bereavement
For they can leech not my agony
I've given birth to desires
Yet forever seek tranquility

Descending into whispers once distant and obscure
Clarity is discerned from their tongues
I lust for an unending coldness
And cry to the light of the Moon

One with the breeze that rides on the waves
I am the stone that lies underfoot
My whispers shall rustle the dew covered branches
And forever carry my pain

Purified by my own hand
Lead me to the open gate
In endless lament
I Hearken the end