A demon is commanded to release his slave from the bondage of death |
| The tortured trees loom overhead And sullen blackness leers at me A trap for every wary tread As I creep past the grasping dead And stumble at insanity Aronwen’s haunted garden waits Her prison for so many years I fumble at the prison gates That seal our joint and common fates I am half blinded by my tears I set my spell-book on the ground And with my quill inscribe her name Aloud I speak the fearful sound I call the demon, horror-bound, And then ignite the sacred flame He comes, and bound by light and spell He brings Aronwen back to me In anger he will curse and yell And seek to draw me down to Hell Because my love has set her free I cast him out; to Hell he goes He leaves his gruesome pumpkin grin Now free at last, Aronwen glows Full bright, and sparkles as she flows To heaven, freed from death and sin. Quintilla, 25 lines ▶︎ |