The Moor

The sigh of summer upon my return

Fifteen alike since I was here

Bathed in deep fog, blurring my trail

Snuffing the first morning rays

Weary from what might have been ages

Still calm with my mind at peace

Would I prosper or fall, drain the past

The lapse of the moment took its turn

I was foul and tainted, devoid of faith

Wearing my death-mask at birth

The hands of God, decrepit and thin

Cold caress and then nothing

I was taken away from my plight

A treason bestowed to the crowd

Branded a Jonah with fevered blood

Ungodly freak, defiler

Pale touch, writhing in the embers

Damp mud burning in my eyes

All the faces turned away

And all would sneer at my demise

Outcast with dogmas forged below

Seared and beaten, banished from where I was born

No mercy would help me on my way

In the pouring rain, nothing is the same

Vows in ashes

I pledge myself to no-one

Seethed and spiteful

All shudder at the call of my name

If you'll bear with me

You'll fear of me

There is no forgiveness in these eyes

For any of you but one

Dispel the mist for now

Melinda is the reason why I've come

She is waterdrops over the pyre

A thistle in my hands

Stained and torn, aged and brown

Virtuous shell with kindred innocence

I awoke from the miasma

Passing swiftly through the moor

This is here, waters stir

In the distance, all that was lost

If you'll bear with me

You'll fear of me

You'd never leave me to

A fate with you