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The web beneath my skin

The Lady knows all secrets,
All fates are weaved before Her eyes.
Yet, She tells none,
Not even Her husband,
Whose thirst to know fills the universe.

The Lady knows all secrets,
Morning, noon and night
She sits at the spinning wheel and hums,
Sings while She feels the threads of life pass between Her fingerstips.

The Lady knows all my secrets,
For Vör sits by Her feet and whispers all She sees,
My every tear,
Each drop of blood
Fallen from my body.

The Lady spoke a secret,
She sent Syn to shut the doors,
To lead me astray.
And yet She Spoke another word,

Sent Another to pull me from the depths
When I’d erred too far away.

What is freedom, I ask,
But to be released from self?
To feel the chains of desire fall from around you?
Vanadís has stuck Her sword into my arm,
She has made me into Her sewing needle,
Her seidr flows through my veins,
My own blood has gone dry.
Her seidr flows through my veins,
Their web is Hers to use.

Words flow out my fingertips,
None belong to me,
I have grown weary of me
And of my words,
So, I gave them all to Her.
What use does She have of them?
Very little,
And yet She takes and collects them,
Pins them in the Öorlog
Like precious stones of love.

Oh, Mother…
I knew no greater darkness than to stray from You,
I was like a dog without a leash,
Getting lost in the wild,
defiling myself in a thousand muddy puddles.
And yet, You clean me,
You purify me,
You tie me in chains that are freedom.
In even I worked for a trillion years,
I could never repay Your mercy.

So, I give You all of me,
All of my words,
(May they always glorify You)
All of my days,
(May none make You ashamed of me)
All of my body and all my soul.

And until death,
This shell will be marked by Your Holy Name.


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