Summoning- Herumor

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still:

From the torrent, or the fountain,

From the red cliff of the mountain,

From the sun that round me rolled

In its autumn tint of gold,

From the lightning in the sky

As it passed me flying by,

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I loved, I loved alone.

On the brink of the abyss

with a blindfold tied tight

should I step into the mist

or retreat back to the light?

I don't know what is in there

whether it be ground or a fall

I don't know if I shall dare

to take the step and risk it all...