The black sea roars like a speech Demons of the deep are merciless Cast your fear about for a candle Drawn from the tongue of this dark shore The One Who Watches steps forth With the World-Tree for a heart Her fires inverted crosses Not for Satan Not for God But for the pagan beyond the human lust for names. She wears a night-cloak and a gown Woven from the void. Her feet are bare to feel the earth As it was before human wreckage. Blood and salt are her baptism On this sand eons old Her axe chants in the voice of animals Uncorrupted and fierce You cannot hear her anymore But in the smallest grain she waits To behold the divested planet After the Self-Sacrificed species Has rotted beyond its bones To become the soil from which it came And the wind through which her singing Manifests the last mass of our loss.