Requiem for a Hermit

Alone in this sanctuary I walk through the candlelight.
My black mane veils me, and my dark robe billows behind.
My company is the cold stone and the throaty raven’s wails,
As I contemplate my place in my remaining time.

I walk unto my balcony between two less animated gargoyles,
And I look at the opaque dark world, awaiting some kind of call.
Then I look upon that familiar tapestry of stars,
And I smile to see that she’s still there, the brightest star of all.

Beautiful and singular her light pierces right through me,
Able to sooth our most time worn scars without even trying.
So why should it be my mortal friends,
That she should ever be left crying?

And so I look up higher even than those earthly stars,
High up into the heavens and this is what I pray,
“Just as your herald gives us her warm comfort and protection,
May she know happiness by my hand or any other, all her days.”

I hope for your sake tender angel,
That the miracles you’re born to do are revealed soon.
I only wish that when my time is up and I leave my body,
The angel sent to guide my soul is you.