I am standing at the cliff's edge
as I look out to the sea;
waves crash on a nameless shoreline
stirred up by a nameless wind.

In my spirit I am pounding,
filled with dread anticipation.
Something in the air is stirring-
portent of a nameless fiend.

I can feel her fiery breathing
and can see her charming eyes.
I am incapacitated
by the shadow of her being.

She's the mother of confusion,
the enchantress of despair;
keeper of a flock of sorrows,
goat-herd of a thousand fears.

In the storm clouds lowly lying
pregnant with a load of woe,
rides her throne in middle heaven
cast in a devouring night.

As the day slips into darkness
and my courage withers more,
she arrives in all her splendour,
clad in most commanding black:

"Come, my love, and cease resistance.
Let us waltz into the night.
Come, forsake all light and living.
Sacrifice your will to me."

I am weak and I am broken,
I have lost, for she has spoken.
So I step unto the scaffold
as her mists engulf my soul.

There's a calmness in her bosom
reminiscent of one's death.
In the doldrums of my defeat
there is not a thing that breathes.

Then I hear a distant echo
from the corner of my cage:
Something outside must be stirring
that I do not comprehend.

All goes dark and all falls silent
but I think I hear a voice.
Must be my imagination,
but it draws a smile from me.

I am lying in the sunshine
looking up to clear blue skies,
as a gentle, nameless sea breeze
ushers in a nameless hope.