Luna falls: Death's noose, Maiden-sprung,
Her youth, defiled; her life blood, wrung,
Fair mirror, cleft: her Gibbous wanes,
The Maiden fell to deeds arcane!

Selene fades, her life now sped,
The Mother, gone; her cradle, red.
The Full Moon stained, defied, defiled,
Life's bossom torn, and to doom, exiled.

Albion withers, her existence claimed,
The Crone is maimed: old wisdom failed.
Age to ashes, ground to dust: the Crescent ails
Cauldron cracked, bleeding argent rivers.

The Silver Three, now dimmed, lie slain
Moon-heart crushed: false radiance paled,
Night-kissed they rise, cloaked in ire:
Death-banes of Glinshari's fire.

Night's vict'ry brings the final waning,
Hark the sound of Moon-hart's failing.
Wing-borne and One-eyed, He soars the skies
Caw-bells chiming His foe's demise

We are but pawns in the Tricker's game,
'neath His red gaze, the dying Flame,
Hope and Despair wed before His Eye,
Flame fails; Moon wails: Hart soon shall die.



Penned by my hand on the 9th of Tzarin, in the year 385 CE.