Bhéan Sidhe

The flowing stream…
A shape of a woman on its shore
She’s washing my cloak
Which was stained by the clay of time
Her eyes are so sad and full of grief
A flow of tears running on her cheek
Her look tells me it all…
Soon it’ll be the time to leave
Three questions…
I still had in my confused mind
She answered to me
With the riddles of time
She took my hand…
Without saying a word to me…
we fell…
Into depths of the stream
Changing this just an eternal dream
To raise the misty curtain of night
I take the will set me free
That’s the final way I still could find
I’m waiting for my sweet Bh