Where to look for me my gift? at what intersections?

I’m afraid not have time, lost in patterns of prophecy.

Ten northern years - for clues measured terms,

And mad witch stories about warrior of the night..

Ballad of Dark Knight.

I chanced upon an ancient witch in brooding forest lair.


And asked I of this ancient one: “You know the sin I bear?"

She laughed, this wizened woman, with a cackle like a bray:


“Do you not know? You aren’t, my child, the first his youth to slay?

For you rejected happiness, becoming your own foe,


You’ve dragged yourself to tangled wood your old man’s face to show.”

And then I saw this ancient witch my guilty secrets knew,


She cackled like a devil and she cursed my dreaming too,


The dreams I’d dreamed of righteous life, without the plague of sins -

“But do you know,” I said to her, “where all my hope begins?


This wood I’ve entered soon will end, transparent, like a stream,


And crystal sea I’ll enter then, where godly light’s the theme.”

The ancient witch, she laughed and said: “Where will you go, I pray?


Come here to me – your end has come: you’ll wither on the way..."

Konstantin Balmont "The Witch" (1903).

(Fine Art Photography. Created in 2022).