“If the pine trees whisper your name, the night will come for what it claims.”
A Witch’s Lullaby
Hear my call, my wild beloved,
Beneath the weeping trees,
The night is full of whispered oaths–
Come drink the dark with me.
The woods are stirring, roots awake,
Their murmurs thread the air,
The fire sighs, the embers quake–
And scent your loosened hair.
We’ll fly beyond the ridge of bone,
Where blackened cedars lean,
The moon pours down her silver tone
On all that lies between.
The owls will sing their hollow tunes,
The fox will bare his gleam,
The cauldron hums beneath three moons–
And folds us in its dream.
Don’t fear the whispers in the pines,
They only speak your name,
The dark recalls the ancient signs–
And keeps our kindled flame.
We’ll walk where fallen stars decay,
Their ashes scent the breeze,
We’ll drink from wells where shadows play–
And rest beneath the trees.
Then when the dawn begins to creep,
And pale light stains the pane,
I’ll bind your soul in gentle sleep–
And kiss you once again.
Keep close the spark the night imparts,
Its pulse beneath your skin,
For even day cannot unbind–
The witchfire deep within.
