In the winding streets I hear her,
the name Adrienne;
who has not bread to eat.

It was the coven's wish,
to devour her at night;
beneath the sheets of men.

They came to her with promises,
a dowry of enough to eat;
a single day.

Each marriage she suffered,
then pain;
as they left her in the cold.

Adrienne, meet me at the ice bar.

Mother taught her daughter,
not to feed the stray;
the dog who sat outside in Winter.

Adrienne, meet me at the ice bar.

The sheet that you are seeking,
is folded;
do not weep any longer,
bread is at the table, Adrienne.

We will find each other in the cold,
to burn the log;
the log that stands now in despair,
hope is coming to you, Adrienne,
the promise of a payment,
that you are found worthy to receive.

©2026 Sayori Yǔ