49. Six Years, Six Lilies (Folk/Opera)

Then silence is the path I stay Uhhh… A crown of gold, a second bride Poisoned smiles she learned to hide Six young princes, hand in hand Turned to feathers by her hand At dawn they rise from castle stone White swans crying, not their own Only at night they touch the land Still my brothers, still my blood, still damned They say to me: *“If you would save our skin Six years mute, no tears within Sew us shirts of star-born bloom Break the spell, defy the doom”* So I gather lilies by the grave Stitch by stitch, the life I save No word, no cry, no broken sound Six slow years without a sound If silence is the price I pay Then silence is the path I stay I wander far from crown and home Through thorn and frost, alone, alone A king finds me in forest shade Takes me bride, though I can’t say His mother’s eyes like sharpened knives She stains my hands, she steals my knives Dead child’s lie, a witch they claim I stand accused, I take the blame Fire waits, the crowd is near Still I won’t betray my fear Six shirts done, the seventh torn Sleeveless wing at breaking morn As flames arise, the swans descend Thread meets flesh, curse meets end Six men stand where swans once flew One bears feathers, stained in blue I speak at last, the truth is clear Love endured what death held near