By: Azor Posted on: February 14, 2012
Your youth was blooming. I could little say
What measure might encompass you in flower,
Shining forth in Sarapin's mute grey,
As though exempted from Melanthan power.
I saw you stand atop the Rageteeth Cliffs,
The sound of seagulls mingling with your song,
And thought, "Whatever life there is in this
Will be my life"--O woe that I was wrong.
You turned away, a shadow 'gainst the sky.
You raised your arms. Your song became a shout.
How did you come to think it--"I must die?"
How did you come to pour your beauty out,
Selene's gift, to waste it in the sea,
Leaving me here to grieve, remembering thee?