O Lady Fortune, matron of the moon
who changes every eve. Your nature sought
to be unkind to most and likewise fought
my fate. For years I spat and cursed and rued
your name. I wondered why you thought to doom
my works to fail when I had done but naught
to earn thy spite and need to fight for aught
which I would keep from thy gambling room.
And yet somehow, by twist of Cousin Chance,
you deigned to put true beauty in my way,
a Hestia to mend the ache of time.
Her starshot eyes have set me with a glance
alight. My sidhe to hold and love, always
for to cherish while she will remain mine.