I do not care who speaks to me,
As long as I can hear
The words of wrath and songs of doom
That's chiming in my ear.

Never mind who says them,
Or from where they come,
To some they're only mumblings,
They're screaming yet to some.

Though it is the Lady
Or perhaps the Father All,
I never cared for which it is
For whom I stand or fall.

In my ignorance, I'm blind,
The Holy call it loss,
I'm waiting for the union
Of the cauldron and the cross.

* * *

It seems to make no sense at all
How Gods can truly be
As human as they really are
In judging you and me.

The life you took for granted
Hangs by a spider thread,
You pray your God to keep you
Out of the Land of Dead.

And since you only prayed when you
Needed it the most,
Perhaps it's only fair your God
Should turn you to a ghost.

Hellfires and demons, or
Rebirth to pain and loss,
Forged into the union
Of the cauldron and the cross.