O maiden of life, mother of life, Tell me why, the trees grow and the earth burns, Answer me, "Because..."...Love knows no fallen child, lost among the slender trees, you in your torn dress alone, have crossed the line. Till this border the world is not at war, Beyond this border the air is not what the soul is used to, It is soaked in the pain of a thousand people, Tell me, stranger girl, why did you come? I know not the answer, for life itself hath told me, it is not the death of hope, nor the death of ambition, but the death of love, the new birth, the breath in hell. We are blind to the wisdom of poetry, the very blood that flows in our veins, we are blind to weather, to terror, standing in a cemetery, on our knees...we sip the sadness of rains...We silently swallow all wounds, digging our fangs into the stone limit...We break our teeth and bodies, we give our heart to the abyss, and with bandages, mutants, we all roam in life. ..Then young girl, then my child, as you breathed in fire, so you breathe at this hour, you do not accept the world in its structure, you do not cherish knowledge, like a child you loudly scold all, and defend yourself with your flesh against threats. I am not the mother of life, I am the mother of patience, and you are no pupil to me, you turned your own privations into clouds, you sprouted wings of feathers, and to the rhythm of the fire, your being raised up, into my very essence...You dissolved all the stars in the sky, in maidenly love of fire. Sweet Neryn, fear not, fear not another's blades, thou daughter of chaos, thou childhood in the flesh. Play your sonnet, and creation don't fail, we know how much laughter has done in the galactic silence...
