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.