I was there when you took her hand-
Kissed sleeping lips so soft,
They would melt the hearts of angels.
I was there, hiding in the rough,
Catching my wild hair on thorns
Just to secret a glimpse of you.
Would you love that I know magic?
That I talk to creatures that haunt the night?
That I am fearless, raised by wolves;
Feral in my beauty?
I hold more power in me
Than she has loveliness.
Why don't you care that she won't wake?
I draw the designs of old
Here in the dry, dark dust.
Pierce my hand and let it bleed.
These are my charms, my graces.
I sing a spell to make her wake.
My hands clutch at my chest;
She rises to meet your gaze.
And as you spirit her away,
I find that poisoned apple
Preserved there at her side,
And fall asleep forever,
Just to dream of you.