Transcendent Call

My hair and clothes stained with mud, my hands scabbed and chafed with blood.
Surpass the still lakes and among the misty fall, the long tower upon the hill glows a transcendent call.

The leaves a crisp tinge, strained underneath my treads, while my blood seeps with a curdled flow nearing me dead.

If a fox were to find me, the creature would surely sense the sickly taint of fear, abide the poison in my blood.

The pain grows strong and I fear I am stuck within these woods till dawn,
Till the sun has lashed the last midsummer winds,
Till the last wince of my glowing tower upon the hills.

But my little eyes grow weaker by the closing of the night,
And the bright transcending call is now nothing but a light,
A light that trances me like a fly, Oh ! I feel I fade by and by.

At last I hear a cawing crow,
The leaves are still and my limbs grow cold. 

But I smile and kiss to the last twinkle of stars,
for the crow will lift my soul and carry me away,
from the burning sight of this new day. 

© 2010 Crystalina Scales