It was in this haunted place
Under a moonless cloak of ebony
I was drawn to the glow
Of a young spiritess weeping in the woods
The blackest ravens and ice-veiled boughs
Have spoken of you, goddess of these bleak woods
I yearn for your embrace
Spiritess of the melancholia
Show me, again, your sweet face
Enchant me with your rich, cinder burnt ether
Lure me into your arms
And bless unto me eternal death
She had spoken to the dawn
Her words wisped in tongues of the wind
And then silence
Pale clouds betrothed the dawn
Black rain fell
The birds wore masks
The haunting stain of her woe
Had burned itself into the oak
Night had gone
Bereaved, I was torn for her
One last time I witnessed her
Beauty in the distance the arms of the trees
Tore at her morbid gown
Swaying in the loathsome winter breeze
She faded before my eyes
Since that day a thousand veiled birds have taken flight
And the melancholy rain still pours forever on