Before your face all questions die away. She reached that point. I doubt I ever will. I rage like she once did against the gods, My list of accusations in my fist. If you’re the lover, why hide in the night? Why does the vision vanish if it’s real? Why have you stolen what I love outright, Leaving me empty? Holy things are dark And I am lost. I don’t know where to turn. So since there’s nowhere else to go, I stay, Willing myself to look you in the face, Accept your silence and not turn away. For though you’re not the answer that I want, What other answer would (O Christ!) suffice?
Orual
Orual
Orual
Before your face all questions die away. She reached that point. I doubt I ever will. I rage like she once did against the gods, My list of accusations in my fist. If you’re the lover, why hide in the night? Why does the vision vanish if it’s real? Why have you stolen what I love outright, Leaving me empty? Holy things are dark And I am lost. I don’t know where to turn. So since there’s nowhere else to go, I stay, Willing myself to look you in the face, Accept your silence and not turn away. For though you’re not the answer that I want, What other answer would (O Christ!) suffice?