The Swan And The Fox

The swan wept over her broken wings
She could not flee, to fly through the light
So saw the fox his time is to come
The one uprose and down the other fell

Over the sea she whittered her wings
And if not now were, it were not too soon
The fox smiled through the glittering grim
When he tightened the hold of now crying light

Then sorrowed he and now sorrows again
That it may not run unless virtue guide it
So if some good star, or better thing
Have given him good, he may himself not torment
But within fires the spirits are,
And every flame the fox steals away

Each whips himself with that wherewith he burns

The ambush of the swan, which made the door
Open to love, pain and suffering
The fox stood upon the bridge uprise to see
The swan once white is now turned to believe