“Is it a signal?” she said softly, “or is it for us?” It is both, I thought in silence, this is to warn, and prepare. I took my friend’s hand and we walked away. We knew we were not wanted. The warning was clear. Everywhere we would go in the country, it would be the same, and one evening…
None of us was amnesiac. We knew full well how it would end. There was a long tradition. From time to time we would lit a bonfire, but most of the time the fires were lit to burn us. Us, witches.
“So much light,” you said, “and here is the path, just across the little stream, do you remember?”
I do remember, we walked there, many times, you and me, when we were kids, and later. In all seasons, in winter like this, with sunlight filtering through the trees, reflecting on the snow, our hands in mittens, in spring, our hearts feeling the change in the air, the sounds of birds, and in the long summer evenings…
But it’s late autumn I remember most, the late season when the wind gets colder, when dark clouds gather above the forest. And then, that year…
And then winter was with us, so fast, and one late afternoon, just like this, you kissed me. You did, and I was taken aback, perhaps even a little frightened. Your golden hair, your red lips… It was there, near the stream, never had I had felt such fire in my soul…
We are old now. The fire still burns in our hearts. The forest is still there, and the sun, reflected on the snow. We walk, hand in hand, listening to the light noises of nature falling asleep.
I want you
I’m searching for you
Endlessly
Though you’re close
So close I can touch you
I want more, I want it all
I am lost, without you
In me
In my soul
My Lady
I will face the legions of Hell
For you
I will die on the cross
For your name:
Love is immortal
I will search for you to
The confines of the Universe
And Beyond…
