---

Behold, the might of the waters,

Tamed and banned to the cauldrons,

Effervescent, yet in the depth: unquenchable lights

To overexpose my wounds...

Hail to the caldrons!

With power to reconstruct dreams extinct,

In the fires of time...

I speak of a potion,

With power to resurrect the dead,

Stay, my transient muse! Don't vanish with the dawn!

Oh radiant caldron, why must you shine so bright?

I fear you froth a hidden truth.

I picture you as the last beacon in the night,

To prove to this rache that it has failed.

As the froth does clear I see a mirror

And afraid of my own face, I retreat

But less and less, I fear, seems worth it,

To be practised in the absence of thy vital heat.