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...