Once I wanted Hope as mine
Light and strife in war entwined
Dark wings flying from my spine
Golden eyes that keenly shine

But Hope never belonged to me
And neither did the walnut tree
Judged by the Watcher's own decree
Lost to strife however I plea

I watch my nightmares walk alone
Each of my dreams are long since flown
O blackbird on the Witch of Bone
Gone selfish hope that I had known

I cut my hair into the stream
But Hope is a lirathyar's dream
Her witches rein the moon's cold gleam
And all that I can do is scream

Just let me winter Ruin's rage
I break, and break the gilded cage
Beg my leash held by witches sage
Loose me not, this dead Dreamer's age


Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 2nd of Severin, in the year 12 AC.