Fade to beauty fade to dreams fade to nothing fade it seems little needles poke and tear love and truth are never there solemn whispers night gone black raindrops shimmer beasts attack forever peaceful forever dead no one sleeps that hasnt bled blessed be winter cold in her heart she will be welcome to rip you apart shallow waters wash you clean bloody rivers drown your queen
The cold of winter is the preparation of the Great Mother for the Intensity of the Sun. His raging Fire, even from afar, loosens Her Girdle. As He draws closer Her ice begins to melt, flowing into and rejuvinating Her Earth. Ah, but if people could follow Nature's example, and cease to resist this inevitability! She sees it not as a violation or fornication when He comes, nor does She seek to possess Him and hold Him fast when He goes. She goes Her own way in peace, assured of His return.
