Her tears have created
The great lakes of the world.
She wept and waited,
Tears of life that curled.
She wept for her lost love,
Granting her own life to others.
From those sprung foxglove.
From golden lakes emerged mothers.
She wept for her tormented life…
Her past haunted her…
Betrayed and left alone to strife.
But, her tears make them blur.
Evil nature came to find,
The Hunter hurt her,
Sorrow in her heart he twined…
She found shelter under myrrh.
There she hid and from whence watched…
The constellations of the distant stars.
There she wondered what was botched,
And healed, then myrrh became her bars.
By her tears…
The great lakes were created.
By her tears…
Fragile Hope awaited.
Child of the glowing Sun,
Of parents doomed to serve…
The never ending Prison of the One.
The gift of curse to fulfil the Oeuvre.
Whom, she is crying under the night skies.
The Fox who ran and ran…
Wry were the tears of her silver eyes.
But light were in them, where lakes rise!