Blednica XX.IV.2020

A choir of whispers around -
Last requiem for fallen star;
Another cenotaph to haunt
When all the light will fade afar.

I walk in the forest alone,
I welcome the fall of the night;
I summon the darkness foregone,
I find in my own death delight.

A wreath of ivy in her hair,
A dress of mist and forest moss;
A smell of blood is in the air -
I know I am forever lost. 

I follow narrow forest stream
And so the night descends...
It was for real, or was dream
How my last hope just ends.