By Dylan B. Myrrha

Who knows where this road leads?
Through a tunnel, gold and green?
Through a pond beset by weeds?
To a glade, lush and serene?

Into the hidden faeryland?
Into the Goddess’s white hands?
Into the darkness of the wood?
Into the Hunter’s wild abode?

Who knows where this path strays?
Down the road to death or life?
Down a thousand wicked ways?
Down the path to bliss or strife?

Towards the dance whence none return?
Towards the shadowed bracken fern?
Towards the brilliant white light?
Towards the moonlit hills at night?

Who knows how this tale will end?
Will it be with joy or tears?
Will it be with foe or friend?
Will it be in days or years?

Until then we wend our Way,
Until then, we choose to stay
Until then we walk this road,
Until then we seek to know.

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