Across the moors my eyes survey,
gathering night birds and o'wisps in my sight,
a breeze of chill upon my face,
rocks me, as lullaby, into the night.
I must wake,must unrest,
furtive in the night,she walks to me,
battling icy wind against her breast,
for each night,a lover she dares to be.
Tonight she plays me,burdens a wait,
Am innocent,yet prisoner,awaiting abuse,
be ambrosia or hemlock,I shall swallow bait,
departed when she,garland me a noose.
Creeps up to me frost,tips of each finger kissed,
feathered scavengers wait to see me bed,
I keep bartering breath for mouthed mist,
my life balanced on promises she said.
Sudden eclipse of moon shudders me awake,
Its not celestial but a heavenly body the same,
as she disrobes and asks that I take,
hunter is the hunted,longing to be tamed.
When night walks away,waking a yawning morn,
I must send her away too,for brute in me be reborn,
we both face scorching day,separated by mortal density,
to make dearer the prize,for wait resembles eternity.
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