Passive cliffs of mordrow

Her hair long
as dark as a raven
she is a cliff
which before her waves crash
and curdle the tears from her eyes
on a stormy night
her voice is beautiful thunder
nurturing this last stand
against the world
i climb longingly the crags
just to see her face
and upon her shoulders
i stand in strength and peace
and fly unto the raging wind
which has spoken my name