Toonela Varjud

whirled by winds
bitten by rain

in empty eyes
the ache of gone-by times

a lifeless soul
an endless road

born of darkness
as one with shadows

hewn from nightfog
woven in marsh-breath

as a raven I fly
by the old oak

as a wolf I howl
in the northern wind

as a ghost I lurk
by the brook in the woods

at twilight sites
scream with anguish