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Twas winter when I fell alone,
one drop from hurting skies;
That showed all the hurt and pain,
deep within the core of eyes.

The Raven flew and let a call,
the trees knarled and scard;
A sad and mourning cry of pain and love,
the night before she died.

And such a morning that it was,
the Raven's soul gone 'way; 
A new beginning in the death,
and knowledge she left along the way.

The Stag awoke with such a start;
Golden light peeking through the fog,
his Doe bringing kin to his life at last;
a sence of joy and pride in his heart to hold.

Within the den; gray as the skies,
she slept with flicking ears,
a yaun and stretch of wolfly guile,
and golden eyes appeared.

The snow it littered on the ground,
left melted tracks of feet;
And eyes they searched through dence brush and rain,
for something of a morning treat.

The wind it blew; and brought to her ears,
the beat of new blood;
Twas the wind that pushed her on;
and thus she found their little cove, and with the scent she fell in love.

For love to get away, the Stag he stayed. 
a mission of suicide at least;
As the Wolf pounced upon his throat,
and began her bloody feast.

The ground, it stained,
with the color of a surviving rose;
The Faun, it cried at Fathers death,
but ran when pushed by Mothers nose.

Beneath the moon, there I stood,
and fell on wobbely knees;
My namesake falling from the broken sky,
the crule and beautiful cycle I have seen. 

And in the night I heard a call,
from Raven big and pure;
That told of life and death and birth,
of pain and love; and all thats great and unsure. 

And suddenly in Raven's eyes,
I saw a single rose;
The crimpson of my beating heart,
the blood of the world, I know. 

The Stag he dies to be reborn,
for his love he gives to all;
The Wolf, a gaurdian of all things,
watches to be sure the cycle doesnt fall.

And in the night, listen close,
and hear the Raven's song;
A keeper of the knowledge,
perhaps one day you'll sing along.
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