O Joturna, I call out to you; this perilous search can no longer endure!
We desire the gods but none more than you
Not for your beauty; nor the kindness of your grace
I yearn for sweet relief of waters to which you shelter
But I know that without your hand; your touch
Relief is not to be
Through the blessing you allow; I shall be reborn
And indebted to the pool beneath your feet
Shed your tears so that my own will not contribute
Your well is burdened enough; as is your heart
I shall bathe in the sorrow and become something more
Know that our swords are weak without first blessed in your well
Like the wings of your helm; your passion shall carry
Take us deeper below; to the cool dark comfort
Allow me to have a taste
To become your champion, lovely Naiad
Nymph of the fountains
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