Beneath a Barren Sky

- Elvellon Ringsbane

Beneath a barren sky,
A barren land,
And a barren heart to match.
A cold wind blows;
Its sighs of mourning
Sing to my heart.

The bitter days wear on,
Futile labor bringing nought
But yearnings.
The seasons vanish and return,
Another cycle of the moon…
Maybe tomorrow will bring freedom.
I know better than to hope.

The wheel spins,
Winding threads to bind me.
The needle’s sting
Mocks the sword.
The silver gleams
In the dying fire;
The knives are sharp,
To slice the flesh of swine.
When will I hone the blade?

Useless trinkets, these jewels I wear;
The circlet presses, heavy as my grief.
Long skirts, a shroud
The wool weighs of doom,
Dragging me down.
Give me a hauberk,
And a helm of steel.
They, at least, would not carry
The weight of despair.

The nights hold no repose;
Carven stone echoes
To my feverish steps.
Sleepless eyes roving,
Red in the light of the fire,
Seeking for a flaw
In the cage.

The pale dawn comes,
Another day of false pretending.
Is there no ending
To this lying dance?

In the darkness,
It seems years
Until the time of dawn.
Under the cold sun,
The night cannot come too swift.
While light remains
I must be strong.
At least the Shadow
Hides my tears.