He hears your voice
O’er a thousand fields
You caress his hair
You polish his armour
Shine his shield
Lift the sword he wields
‘Cause you come
Like the winds of winter
To burden his soul
To steal his heart
So he lights his fires
To warm him before
The chill that creeps
He lights his fires
To love you
And honour you
He hears your voice
In all his nightmares
You caress his dreams
You straddle his mind
Till blind he lays
Half-crazed and flailing
Awake or asleep
You stay always
Creeping the crevices
Crawling the cracks
Of his infested brain
He hears your voice
As clear as day
You caress his neck
You bathe his feet
For he aches
In body and spirit
At the end of
The desert of a thousand plains
Just before the rains
The floods
The tides
He hears your voice
Near-crazed by now
You caress his lips
As he falls
Unto his knees
Tears on his cheeks
His hands upheld
In the prayer
Of some secret holy rite
Only you know
He hears your voice
He sees your shape
You caress his face
As you come forth
From the haze
A goddess born
A devil raised
You plant a kiss
Upon his eyes
And smile at him
He reaches for your lips
A man dying
He strokes you once
So he believes
Just before
You draw back
Into the breeze
That brings the rains
The floods
The tides
To sweep him away
To a far off land
Where he can live
And learn to love
And once more die for
Another’s music
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