The longest night

An old Celtic ritual there is, of hope and love and everything that is above. From far away or from next door, people eager for soul step through the door. The fire is burning and the circle is complete, now all we need is a lack of fear and to speak about what we believe. Songs, poems and stories rise away, put hopes or wishes into the candle’s way. Let them burn, be purified and if we are true within our mind, the spell will work and find its way.


Long is the wait and long is the hour
Through night, for mind, the dark is just a cover
Once the word was spoken the soul cares less
The flesh will feed and have no rest

Unguent for mouth the fear is,
Within its clash few fingers search for ribs
Skin washed clear of breath and field
And the voices will have their taste

Fear less, the cover will be sincere
But even so, will always disappear
So remember, care and pray
Nothing is long, the light will find its way


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