Across Grey Waters - Lethean

As the sun falls from the sky

Waning crescent rises high

Through bleary and forsaken eyes

To Hecate’s torch I gaze

Standing tall upon the prow

Western shores I leave you now

To wear the wreath upon my brow

Of fragrant asphodel

Four times born of suffering

I have four times come forth to die

And now the Lethe’s waters cry

To me to drink my fill

Hark, I hear your birdsong!

O Elysium sweet field

How I long to bathe in your crystal waters

Tread your white sands, walk the golden path

Through Elysian meadows — into the evermore