Prayer at the Gate

As childhood died the old year

made The Soldier reappear.

The ash embowered night and day

as at the gate she prayed;

Wyman, am I worthy?

Speak your wordle to me,

and drisk shrouded in its cloak

holway, river, brook and oak.

All souls under Orlam's reign

made passage for the born again.

So look behind, look before

life knocking at death's door

and teake to your dark haired Lord

forever bleeding with The Word.

So look before, look behind

life and death all innertwined

and teake to your dark haired Lord

forever bleeding with The Word.