Black feathers fall where the vows were broken Stone mouths speak, but not all is spoken She walks in frost, she wears the tide A crown of ash, the Raven Bride Born from grief in a hollow grove Veil of silence, breath of woe Her name was lost where the birch tree wept Her kin forgot, but the ravens kept No hand to hold, no flame to guide She wore the wings, she did not hide The wind obeys her mourning tread She whispers vows to shades long dead Bride of the dusk, carved in flame Griefkeeper walking without name She binds the storm, she breaks the stone She builds her church in flesh and bone No light, no law, no breath to please She sings where even death must kneel Her dress of feathers, stitched with scream Her eyes still burn with old regime The sky she breaks is cold and torn Each vow she speaks becomes a storm She does not beg, she does not sleep She comes for oath the dead still keep Let ravens mark the chosen grave Let sorrow rise but never save Let frost rebuild the lover’s pyre And silence feed the funeral fire Bride of the dusk, carved in flame Griefkeeper walking without name She binds the storm, she breaks the stone She builds her church in flesh and bone No light, no law, no breath to please She sings where even death must kneel Crown of ash Eyes of coal Wings of ruin Heart of soul
