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...