A Lyrical Ballad: Journey and Endurance

I cannot go on, she says
in the night
it hurts I’m afraid, and I’m too tired to fight

I have been cut by the dull edge of the blade
Wounded by the quiet rip of the knife

Inside I am alive
but the fear is so bright
that I stumble
in spite of the mourning star’s light

I fall and I rise

I am a daughter of Night
Covered in the dust of the trek
the dew washes my wretchedness
So I stand bare before my love:
I am betrothed to  Kismet

Walk with me,
mine lover,
We shall cut the morrow
like a veil
to protect us
from dispossession
despair and

And our children shall never
be undone
nor shall any blade
rend them apart

then I shall be free
to repent and atone
the nights I nearly gave
my life too wantonly
from fear of being alone

Because I nearly succumbed
to that serpent,
the King of Loneliness,
the Prince of Despair.
From the likes of the sorrowful
he hears each and every anti-prayer

but the night I cried
without understanding
still, I was guided away

And I tell you, the heart-riven,
that moonlight is enough
to guide even tear-blinded strays
thru stones of turmoil
thru the thorns and the brush