Sleep sweet my son thy worries now float above thee,
Lifted away from thy now gentle face.
Have I forgot my most beloved to love thee,
A love that no anger should ever replace.

If when together, our hearts beset by Duty could not convey
No gentle words but harsh rebuttal for the other,
Now when apart, these repressed and hidden feelings come to display,
But who here to see the tears of a grief stricken mother?...

These oaken halls have never been so cold;
The long night of eternity never so sharply felt.
This ageless heart takes on itself to grow old,
Alone, now that the final blow unto thee has been dealt.

And then they came, their careful words passing over me,
I hear only the echoes of thy hard voice raised in heat.
Teach me my son, how to love them as I love thee,
They who would lay the reins of their destiny at my feet?

O thou my son who would challenge the Tide as thou must,
Thy noble heart was at once my love and sad portent.
Thy fight doomed from the start no matter how just;
Our broken hearts, as foreseen, now my great torment.

So sleep sweet my son, wake not from thy dream,
The times to come are not meant for one so true.
Should in the distance, a more golden age redeem,
I would wake and give thee My love and thy due.

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Phaestian, in the year 672 AF.