Frau Holda, Dark Lady, Who rides at the head of the Wild Hunt,
It is to You that the young go when they leave Midgard so soon.
There are many who are on their way.
When they come to Your gates, open them wide,
Let your realm be a warm welcome to them,
where the pain of their passing will drift from their memories
and they will know peace.
Too little attention
To warnings and cries for help
Too few answers
Too many questions
Too much blood
To ever fade from our hands
Great Lady, they are Yours now
But many are left behind,
those with pain unimaginable,
from a loss that leaves the heart and soul
torn with wounds that will never fully heal...
and those who know only what they see and hear
but whose hearts break anyway
Help us to know what to do
Where to turn
What to say
How to listen and really hear
Before You have to welcome any more...
So may it always be.