lay this raven's quill
to my wounded heart,
let the blessing land
drown in my piceous blood...
and remind it again that the glasses of rose
tint will shutter, no doubts, inside.
so, the rains of the shards and rivers of blood
will flow with the tears alongside.
I was blinded again by the old cruel world,
with no need turned my back upon thee.
now I hear that you sing -
and your voice serves as guiding beacon to me.
my beloved and glorious Hecate,
break the obstacles, show me divinity.
under healing light of the crescent
take away all my responsibilities.
On the night, which is starless and blustery,
lift me up to the edge of the clouds
and without a droplet of judgment
Permit me to jump from above...
Prayer to the Moon
© Copyright: Фендеров Федор, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123033108429
Свидетельство о публикации №123033108429
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