Hag in rags, resplendent queen, how fair she
as light and shadow tease her slim features .
Herald of Droaam, speaker of creatures
that the Fallen Five fear, feast apogee.
Such enchantment is both divine and not -
My heart races in anticipation.
Dread Katra! This Sovereign and Dark nation
stands silent when she talks and yet cannot
recall her voice - it echoes in my mind
like a bird who has lost its saintly song.
Moments since her departure and all wrong.
No timbre, no memory. I am blind.
All lost in time but feeling still remains -
of fear, of admiration - such strangeness.
Unnerving woman, story villain, stress
incarnate. She lingers still in my veins.
Shall rest be refreshing in such a state
or worsen it? Weaver of curses - she
saw through all in midst of jubilee.
My racing heart is still yet to abate.