Meeting On The Storm s Edge 20. 08. 04

Epigraph:    "...Hear you screaming out in the hours of living hell
And the void inside you've carried it so well
Seems like living now gets harder every day
Seems like you don't care for life the same way..."
                Morten Veland

I wake up alone in the cold pulsing gloom
The shades of the awful dream whirl in my room
I hear the wind's howl as the night gale impends
And feel I am lifting above the dead lands

The deep-hurting images crowd in my mind
But there is no hope - it's forever resigned
I have no more notions nor strengths to impart
'Cause love is the killing state I did depart

Ascending, I fly o'er the woods and the dells
And near by the fane where the iron bell knells
The torch is still burning beside the main gate
And still the severe guardian monks are sedate

Amid the obscure skies the dark spirits reign
I ask: "What the turn of doom do you ordain?
How long I must wander among the old graves
And hate this damned world which absorbs and depraves?

I left in the frozen bog my martyr's crown
I'll never be hero; I'll never be clown
But say to me where in this mess is my role
If only the anguish remains overall?"

The spirits keep silence. As always I guess
The blackened clouds curl to appall and depress
But I simply stop on the storm's edge and scream:
"Emerge now, you, indolent Ghost of the Stream!

I'm sick of my solitude, sick of the war
I wage by myself with no time to deplore
The loss of my past being grieving me so
That I see no future nor bright place to go

I suffered and waited, I stood, drank and cried
But no longer I can bear this grief inside
It's not like the primitive mopes I repel
And if you won't answer, I'll send you to hell!"

"Sad" - whispered the spirit and rose from below -
"Your life's second cycle is completed, I know
Don't worry, the set of your sun's not the close
You're but a tired wayfarer who needs repose

Release all your woe than calm down for a year
You already have something real you did rear
Some day we shall carry on endlessly far
Where e'en the gods will be with us on a par."

I said: "I believe you but my heart is bled
And I won't return 'cause at home I grow mad
Your riverine haven for me is the best
To hold the last ritual and take a long rest"

The ghost evanesced and the skies became clear
I deem, once again he will hardly appear
But I've found the shelter and there I shall stay
For one year? Or epoch? But maybe for aye...