Invocation to Bride Drawing to a close, now is the shadowy night Twinkling and bright, O’ Morning Star light Dapples with dew, like glistening cold jewels. From deep within thy villages, and out amongst thy rurals Quiet is the forest, subdued is the glade Perched upon a whisper, balanced upon the blade. Yet from the dark comes the promise of the new day, Tucked within a black cloak, mane golden as the flame. Early yet late, when only insane or artists dare tred Driven by a passion, hunger longing to be fed. You stir us from our cradles and yank us from our beds, Drawn by your single candle, down a path we have longed to be led. By and ancient faery well, stand you and waits A lone figure upon whom the black cloak is draped Eyes blue, twin flames burning bright Flames to match your candle, against the dark is your light. You are inspiration and passion, a muse to the guilds You are the healer and the crafter, we are the students to your will. Mercurial and intuitive, elusive...
