Most Beloved Lady, You who have loved freely and are scorned for such. You whom the gods seek counsel and aid.
You, whose distaff has spun creation, whose girdle denotes Your unsullied office. You who rides with the Winds, granting Life and bestowing Death
Who holds the golden radiance of the Sun, whose pale complexion haunts and intrigues like the Moon. Your eyes glisten as the ever-burning Stars and your ruby lips remind of the blood-bond shared since inception.
May You treasure I who will be tempered until am a shining jewel to adorn Your body.
We have enjoyed a chase, a tryst. You have danced for me. I have laid myself down for you, upon you. Yet you have surmounted me and directed me. You treat me as Your beloved, though truly as my Lady I serve You.
You whisper to me and I linger on every word. You’ve shown me wonders and offer more. The servant is crowned. I crumble in Your presence and give You all that I can.
I have no name save the one You call me, my only face is the one You hold dear.
Together in this embrace Time is overcome and the Wasteland erupts in bloom.
Together I have died and am reborn…
In Lux Veritas,
The Cunning Apostle.