Morning dew faceted like heart shaped diamonds, vibrating on spider webs like silver threads and beads.
You are the soil from which nothing grew and I am the morning star that out shined you. All my deep
Sorrow like damp, heavy poison, turns cold under the raven moon. Blessed with sin, the widows weep
And are drained by the cold winter’s breeze and the winter sleeps. The four winds blow and become one
While we carry heavy stones and recite poetry to the sun.