«Who Has Seen Her Wave Her Hand»

(by M. Sterk)


Down by the river where the old willows bow
Marked by time, their branches hanging low
There where the aspens stand and hide
Witness stories, day and night

Along these trees, a river runs
Its water cobalt blue
It accompanies the road through the fields of rye
Leading to a castle all folks knew

On an island in the river, covered with flowers
Dwells a lady, wrapped in secrecy
Between tower walls that embower
Her being, being a mystery

Sniffing, in tears; a flower
While standing in the casement
Fairy lady in the tower
Who has seen her wave her hand?
Who has seen her wave her hand?

At the fields the reapers listen
And whisper: "that's the lady in the tower"
A voice like an angels harmonic echoing
They go numb, as her voice grows louder

And when the shallop drifts at night
Down to many towered Camelot
Floating along, where roses grow wild
Where the lady royally apparelled
With a pearl garland around her head
Serene she sleeps in the tower on her velvet bed


«Mirrors Magic Sights»

(by M. Sterk)


And she's dreaming about
The view over the castle down below
There is no doubt
A curse came upon her
As she knows...

The voices of reapers
Shading off into sounds of the night
Becomes visible in a mirror
The mirror with its magic sights

The cause of the inner row
Is the promise of horror and strife
If she keeps looking at the beauty below
Despair will take over her life

Her eyes , her deep blue eyes
She averts them from the casement
And she is weaving
While the loom obeys her hands

Lustful groaning by moonlight
A luscious mistress and her paramours
Making love in the brewing night
Till dawn they enjoy each other
While being a mirrors magic sight

And when someone dies
A threnody sounds from the towers
So she weaving in her web
Also weaving a funeral
Under sunbeam showers


«When Lust Evokes The Curse»

(by M. Sterk)


A horseman rides slowly through the mirror's sight
He's singing a hymn for the victory of another fight
Lancelot, his semblance radiates a mystic might

Hair from underneath his helmet, and the red helmet feather
Wave in the wind like a licking flame together

This brave armoured knight; raised by the lady to a goal
Because the flames of lust carbonise her soul

Infinite sadness or smothered grief
So alone, but these emotions won't leave
Your state, going from bad to worse
Now as lust evokes the curse

You left the web for pictures that the mirror sent
And forgot the loom
While you stepped towards the casement,
embraced by the arms of doom
Your lust brought you to the end

Fairy lady of Shallot
Now as you're looking down at Camelot

She's engulfed by the dismal night
When the wind extinguishes the candlelight
She's searing for this heroic knight
Wrapped in the web in which memories hide
Then the mirror cracked from side to side
The curse came upon her and she cried...
"Death chooses me to be its bride..."


«Floating Towards Distress»

(by M. Sterk)


She runs to the river down below
Towards a boat under a willow
Away from the mirror, the loom and the tower
Where she yearned for him, hour after hour

Under a sky like a dark blue dome
Stands the queen of loneliness
A skin as white as the rivers foam
Which tips the hem of her dress

A crown of a pearl garland she wore
Blinking to Camelot in moonlight
To which she stares, through tears
Tears that are clouding her sight

A forlorn goddess
Seeking for her God
Carving in the stern
The lady Shallot

Like a prophet seeing the entire future
She looses the chain
While death stretches its hand and lures
Seizing her to gain

Paralysed and in distress, she floats
Into the night by darkness clothe
When the lady sings a mournful song
Chanting through the spheres of night
Where it dissolves at the horizon
Like her life


«Behind The Walls Of Her Desire»
(by M. Sterk)

Grey painted clouds usher in
The dawn of a new day
Lighted a shade floating in sin
A shade that follows one way


Tidings echo through the streets
When minstrels prefer silence
An echo calling from the wharfs
Make the knights stop their feasts


Down by the riverside
Things have become clearer
The master
Of her dreams


Her pale white body wrapped in a web of tales
Laying in a hazy gleam
This beauty brought by ’s lands many gales
Died in a chase
In a chase for a dream
And now she floated
Behind the walls of her desires
In a shallop where in life is shed
Her coffin ...


«The Witch In Me»
(by M. Sterk)

Dans le forêt, si noir que la nuit peut devenir, respirer
In the forest, so black that you inhale the night
Echo transmitted tales of an ancient might
Standing in the circle, surrounded by candlelight
Listening while I’m blindfolded, naked and tied


Praise the seasons, praise the night
Witches teach me how to see
This initiation enlarged my sight
I now found the witch in me


Through the lucid eyes of witches you’ll see
The things that man can’t see anymore
The origin of life still lives in every tree
That in the witchcraft lies the source of all the lore


Praise the seasons, praise the night
Witches teach me how to see
This initiation enlarged my sight
I now found the witch in me


The salty lips, the fivefold kiss
On my whole body there’s no spot they miss
These words, a vow of secrecy
A flagellation, forty times, sealing this


Receive the atheme, its effects will make me rich
Because the seeds of fertility I now sow
I stand the invocation of witch
For complete wisdom there are two more to go


«Along Ethereal Levels»
(by M. Sterk)

Tiredness and sleep we expound
As a natural urgency to redeem
From the flesh to dwell ’round
And project experiences in a dream


Climb into the astral tree step by step
Meet all the angels and see your God
Rise along ethereal paths, fly into the web
Filled with symbols, representing your lot


See, hear, ethereal levels
Touch, feel, ethereal levels


See, hear, ethereal levels
Touch, feel, ethereal levels


While you move in a deep trance
Stepping out of your earthly shell
Filled with divinity so immense
You’re visiting heaven, while you saw hell


Reach the last chakra at the top of the tree
This divine feeling that seizes your soul
In a deep meditation it could happen to me
In a boundless light, you approach the goal


See, hear, ethereal levels
Touch, feel, ethereal levels


Along ethereal levels


Witches teach me how to see
This initiation enlarged my sight


«Crown Of Thoughts»
(by M. Sterk & M. Terpstra)

Filling this world with a gloomy gaze
While living in an absorbing haze
A deep grey lake is all they see


Focussed on what will come and what will be
What will be shall come at last
And knowing what will come has already passed

Thinking and thinking, it's going to deep
The borders are gone now, even in his sleep
Where is the beginning, where is the end?
What will you go through, where do you stand?


A sorcerer, a beggar
A king or a knight
The emperor of a world
The world of his mind


Intelligence that crossed the lines of his stare
Enchanted by the pearls at the bottom of the
catches a glimpse in this world of fake


And takes along a piece of a mystery
That is there, an isolated soul, dreaming or awake
Or one that is open, insane or full of care


This is the beginning, the beginning of the end
What will you go through, there where you stand


A sorcerer, a beggar
A king or a knight
The emperor of the world
The world of mankind


«For Those Who Are Left Behind»

(by M. Sterk)


Like the clouds that sail along the endless sky
And roses give out their colour to the air
Like swans that start to sing before they die
I comfort you, surrounding you with care

You bear the cross of guild and of regret
While my fingers seize your pale arms
"Hold me for the last time", I believe you said
Freezing thoughts won't stop me from keeping you warm

The pulsating of the heart goes on and on and on and on...
Weakness becomes the king of thy being
When cathedrals of hope collapse
Pictures of thy life pass by in the last seconds
Never have known the meaning of life
Until it ends...

I sit alone, your head upon my hands
I cry over you while you are feeling free
Cause now you are, you are in the revealing lands
Passed away taking along a part of me

It is hard for me, for me to see you die
Through all the tears, tears that make me blind
It is hard for you, for you to see me cry
And you won't forget those who are left behind...


«Quiet Friend»

(by D. Reedyk)


He accompanies me through wind and rain
When I'm in agony and pain
He warns me for the change, the change of tide
And tells me when and where to hide

When I was born along came he
When I arose he came alive in me
But only I was recognized
Vivid in their dream
No one saw him gleam

How selective they wish to perceive
In the lie, they want to believe
The trees blossom acknowledged
The roots denied
Because if he'd be noticed
They'd tremble, terrified

Why not speak of him freely?
Of the one hushed so ruthlessly?
He who offers the ultimate escape
Out of this treacherous world full rape

To me, a friend
Guardian of my final breath
To them, their greatest fear
They call him "DEATH"


«The Rest Of My Days»

(by M. Sterk)


Different winds of sorrow restrain me
Every time I try to keep my head above
I'm drowning in sadness, tears become a sea
While I'm desperately searching for a key

Help me to recover the blaze
Lead me through this life
Then I can survive
The rest of my days

Take me by my clammy hands
And bring me to a world I've never seen
Far away, to unknown lands
Across paths where I have never been

Help me to recover the blaze
Lead me through this life
Then I can survive
The rest of my days

The suppression of emotions inside
Makes that I can't mention my feelings you said
While recovering from disappointments I always slide
For I know the answer is just in my head



Created by Marina, Arth Copyright © 2007

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