The White Stag

By Northwind of Otters

Pale moon that shines

on hill and tree.

White stag who is fleeing,

a prayer, a plea.

Between each shadow,

where darkness bides,

White stag who is fleeing,

for which nothing hides.

A hunter comes,

a life for to take,

White stag who is fleeing,

thy senses awake.

Blood in a pool,

red against white,

White stag who was fleeing,

thus ended your flight.

The frosty air,

is thy last breath,

White stag who was fleeing,

you embraceth death.

But...

When moon is full,

and time is right,

White stag who was fleeing,

may step into light.

To see him run,

o'r hill and glade,

White stag who was fleeing,

now only a shade.

Great are his strides,

faster he runs,

White stag who was fleeing,

thy night has begun...