In misty graveyard,
By ancient tombs.
I weave my spell,
The dark lord looms.
No sacred boundaries,
No consecrated ground.
A desolate yearning,
My soul he's found.
In dark of night,
With powerful words,
With yew and linden
And potent herbs.
My blood I libate
On the frozen ground.
My soul and his
Forever bound.
I feel my heart
Skip an icy beat.
The mists, they part,
At last we meet.
A mantle of glamour
He wears so well.
Will he surrender
To this, my spell?
I see myself
Reflected in his eyes.
Suddenly scared,
But why no cries?
Dare I surrender
My soul, at his feet?
To offer my heart
And it's very last beat.
I am beholden by him,
There's no turning around.
And the embrace of the blood rose
I've found........I've found.

Moonwillow Oct 2002