She runs to the river down below

Towards a boat under a willow

Away from the mirror, the loom and the tower

Where she yearned for him, hour after hour



Under a sky like a dark blue dome

Stands the queen of loneliness

A skin as white as the rivers foam

Which tips the hem of her dress



A crown of a pearl garland she wore

Blinking to Camelot in moonlight

To which she stares, through tears

Tears that are clouding her sight



A forlorn goddess

Seeking for her God

Carving in the stern

The lady Shallot



Like a prophet seeing the entire future

She looses the chain

While death stretches its hand and lures

Seizing her to gain



Paralysed and in distress, she floats

Into the night by darkness clothe

When the lady sings a mournful song

Chanting through the spheres of night

Where it dissolves at the horizon

Like her life

Undone...