By a lake gone black and cold with autumn rain, 
in a silent verdant chapel of whispering pines,
a woman kneels to pray

Tears and words tangle and tumble, 
like angry river water over rock 

She lifts her voice,
confessing to her fear

A kestrel breaks from cover, 
hunting down her words

“Be fierce!”
the winged warrior screams

“Be fierce.”