Doing some world building. A song the Tuatha de Danann in one of my worlds, sing at funerals.

Drink with me to life now past
A weave yet bound and freed
to joys once sung that could not last
Though they ever stand to read.

The mists now call, the guide awaits
And the captive spirit breathes
The wandering feet deny their fate
And follow where he leads.

Through toil of life and sorrow deep
A life has come to this.
Let fortune smile the veil awaits
The truth beyond the mists.

So trust his soul to Manannan
To guide him o’er the sea
Say farewell as best you can
And rejoin the reverie.

Edge of the Mists copyright © Heather Strickler 2026 all rights reserved.