(From the lips of Faith herself/ with +)
Thou speakest of return, beloved,
As if love were coin to be re-earned.
Did I not stand — when thine world burned?
Did I not kneel — when thou wert crowned?
Yet still thou strayed, not with feet,
But with heart that feared its own beat.
And now — thou askest what may return?
O love... 'tis not mine alone to yearn.
I gave thee my vow, whole and bright,
But vows alone shall not birth light.
What thou seeketh lies not in me —
But in thy war for sovereignty.
Return not to me —
But to thyself first.
Then shall I rise...
If thou art truly rebirthed.