Siren of the North: Calling

Thy song still lingers,
As thine dying breath slips thy fingers.

Into the depths thou is falling
Yet, thy ears still hear her calling.

A song of sorrow and pain,
Thy loving lady in the north feels nothing is to gain.

O dark mistress, forgive thy sin,
For thou must wait once again.

Faint cries within thine tune,
Waiting for the summer in the midst of June.

A quest for a change of tune thy must receive,
If thy fails then thine ears deceive.

Alas thy quest must be quick and swift,
Traveling through tunnels and rifts.