She Seemed Fragile Like A Moonflower –

There Was So Much Of Beauty Here: The Neat, Small Tracks Of A Foraging Creature, Stoat Or Marten; The Inticate Tracery Of A Skeleton Leaf, Still Clinging Vainly To Its Parent Tree As, Little By Little, Time Stripped It Of Its Substance, Leaving Only The Delicate Remembrance Of What It Had Been.

He Would Have Told Her - He Would Have Said, It Matters Not If You Are Here Or There, For I See You Before Me Every Moment. I See You In The Light Of The Water, In The Swaying Of The Young Trees In The Spring Wind. I See You In The Shadows Of The Great Oaks, I Hear Your Voice In The Cry Of The Owl At Night. You Are The Blood In My Veins, And The Beating Of My Heart. You Are My First Waking Thought, And My Last Sigh Before Sleeping. You Are - You Are Bone Of My Bone, And Breath Of My Breath.

There Is No Good Or Evil, Save In The Way You See The World. There Is No Dark Or Light Save In Your Own.

Because If I See You Defeated, Then I Think I Will See Alban Defeated, And If That Happens, None Of Us Can Go On. To Guard You Is To Guard The Heart Of This Land Of Ours.

Good And Bad; Shade And Sunlight, There's But A Hair's Breath Between Them. It's All One In The End.