Sweet Night you do return
descending as Raven’s wings; silent, dark.
Light does your mercy spurn,
smothering hopeful spark,
all manner of pride dissolving ‘round this heart.
Ebon waters they rise,
cold river; deaths finger, freed from her stead,
drowning both songs and cries.
And I, moved from my bed,
succumb to the rapids into which I am led.
Deeper still ‘neath the foam,
of waters churning crest, peace reaches high.
My Love’s voice calls me home,
I fight no more to rise
and sink into darkness; holy, baptized.
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