---

A murmur disrupts the village

Of what these omens foretell

When blood runs in the milk

And black dogs come to dwell

The parish dwells on the scriptures

And begs the grace of saints

Yet The Maiden is plagued by rumors

Of ill fortune as of late

"See how she wastes away

As if some rote drains her

Afresh with each new day"

"Fear weighs within her heart

How has she erred such

That God's grace departs?"

Called

From her dreams

"Arise!

Fate does summon thee!

A task

Yet unknown

Draws her into the darkness

From the warmth of home

Stumbling

Through the streets

She cannot reach her courage

From a void which sinks so deep

Brought

To the square

The calling of her waning days

Awaits her there

Gathered in the night

These departed souls

Concealed in the modesty

Of white hoods and robes

Arisen from rest

Yet a Trance still veils her eyes

The Maiden leads the procession

By the glow of candle light

"See how she wastes away

As if a blight does vex her

Worse with each new day"

A curse which she may bestow

To all she encounters

Where The Holy Company goes