戚戚兰烬

I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

The Innocents

What shall I sing to my lord from my window? 

What shall I sing for my lord will not stay? 

What shall I sing for my lord will not listen? 

Where shall I go when my lord is away?

Whom shall I love when the moon is arisen? 

Gone is my lord and the grave is his prison. 

What shall I say when my lord comes a calling? 

What shall I say when he knocks on my door? 

What shall I say when his feet enter softly? 

Leaving the marks of his grave on my floor.

Enter my lord. Come from your prison.

Come from your grave, for the moon is a risen. 

Welcome, my lord.

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