O Lady Bright

A beacon 'midst the night's shroud,
A piercing, keen blade,
My fragile form, pale and frail, it did pierce,
No more befuddled, I stand.

Arrayed in robes of resplendent white,
To the seething lake, her arm did she extend,
In restless tumult, ceaselessly swaying,
In the unyielding grip of relentless woe.

Her unblemished flesh in agony,
From the depths she drew me forth,
But, alas, the tumult consumed my heart,
And willingly, I plunged into the abyss.

With awkward steps, I ventured forth,
More cognizant, more tormented,
The somber city oppressive,
The depths profound, a binding chain.

Yet those halls of sunstone,
Dim yet radiant,
Never departed from my gaze,
Through the obscurity, I discerned.

"Once more," I implored,
And mounted the dread heaps,
Once more, she approached for me,
Her entire being aflame.

Enfolded in arms aglow,
This time, I ascended to the surface,
To those halls of stone, glimpsed from afar,
Which at last, I called my abode.