Death Sings the Song of Goodbye

Death sings the song of Goodbye;

that ancient steadfast crone,

chanting her prayer for last breaths.

Old lady death waits at the end of the cycle.

Like a wolf howling low, mournfully,

for something she once knew,

so sings Death the song of Goodbye.

A slow decay, a rapid disappearance,

still the song resounds and echoes

its melancholy message.

She sings in the night and her voice

carries on the wind.

The trees echo her song, bones do too.

The faceless dark Moon blankets the heart

in black stillness.

Shadows loom, but they look familiar.

Death sings the song of what was known.

What once was, what could have been.

Death sings to call in the future,

the rebirth, the new,

the freshly cleansed space.

She sings and sings

until the first whispering rays

of the waxing Moon Maiden

reach the Shadow

and replace it with Light.

The Lady, the All Powerful,

has done her work.

She has sung us home

to ourselves

to rebirth

to the present

into the future

And the past slips away with her.

Persephone, inescapable guardian,

still singing, has bid her quiet goodbye.