How Quiet Is the Midnight.
Lord Soth's Song.
Set aside the buried light
Of candle, torch, and rotting wood
And listen to the turn of Night
Caught in your rising blood
How quiet is the midnight, love
How warm the winds where ravens fly
Where all the changing moonlight, love
Pales in your fading eye
How loud your heart is calling, love
How close the darkness at your breast
How hectic are the rivers, love
Drawn through your dying wrist
And love, what heat your frail skin hides
As pure as salt, as sweet as death
And in the dark the red moon rides
The foxfire of your breath
Email: sengirandgilth@angelfire.com
