Shores of Avalon
Sadness lying never spoken,
Stillness remains a valued token.
Slowly up drifts her funeral pyre
To the shores of Avalon.
Her face a pale ashen grey,
Lighter than wool upon which she lay.
Dead, merely a single day
Upon the shores of Avalon.
Two coins upon her delicate eyes,
To cross the river, now it lies.
For the boatman to the recently died
Reaching the shores of Avalon.
Her body cold as winter snow,
Fine hair no longer now to grow.
Demise causing naught but woe
Far from the shores of Avalon.
A crystal crown upon her head
A beautiful princess now lies dead.
With immortal grace it once was said
Arrives at the shores of Avalon.
Behind her head upon the shores
Lie rows of graves, the open doors.
To places breaking Death's ancient laws
The twisted shores of Avalon.
Not a word there was uttered,
Nor a syllable gently muttered.
As around spectres congregated
On the forsaken shores of Avalon.
Sadness still remained unbroken
Until the wind, again was woken.
Carried with it secrets spoken
On the lonely shores of Avalon.
Whispers carried by the wind,
Spoken from a mind had sinned.
No figures present saw its win
Over spectres on the Shores of Avalon.
Her body holy, sacred and blessed
Carried away by women in hooded cloaks dressed.
All by the Holy Spirit possessed
At her resting place of Avalon.
Her tomb lined with candles bright
God's will the pyre failed to ignite.
Surrounded always by God's light.
At the sacred shores of Avalon.
Sadness still never spoken
Stillness ever a valued token.
From Death's slumber never woken
On the lost shores of Avalon
