My mother twenty years did live
with the ring upon her finger.
Her eyes so sad, so rarely glad,
yet to me she was so tender.

On her deathbed she beckoned me
to sit and hold her hand.
Her soul was young, yet her body was tired—
her hourglass emptied its sand.

In whisper low, she told me this
with sincerity I could tell.
“This ring,” said she, clinging to me,
“was forged in the fires of Hell.”

Complete surprise lit my eye,
she clutched tighter to my hand.
Her gnarled fingers, so hot they were,
they seared me like a brand.

Her secrets fled like raging souls
out her mouth from deep within.
The story that she told me
left gooseflesh on my skin.

“In my youth,” mother said, “I was fresh and fair.
Rosy cheeks, eyes like stars, flaxen golden hair.
The man I loved, he tore my heart and ripped it into shreds.
Left me broken, all alone,
but not before I shared his bed.”

“‘Before he left, we bid farewell—
burning kisses on my lips.
He thrust this ring upon my finger
then fled to board the ship.”

“As he sailed away, I heard the crack
of my heart as it shattered.
A tiny click, like breaking glass—
without him, nothing mattered.”

“Alone I stood upon the dock,
into my heart, the terror crept.
My father was dead and my sister gone,
so into the bay I leapt.”

“The dark water caressed my body,
curling round like snakes.
The end was near, I gave up life,
wanting never again to wake.”

“A fisherman who heard my splash
dragged me from the water deep,
though I wanted nothing more
than to slip into timeless sleep.”

“For weeks and weeks I almost starved
sleeping on cobbled streets.
Shivering with cold, my dress in tatters,
a more pathetic soul you’ll never meet.”

“I slept at night, curled up tight
cradling my left hand—  
clinging to the last touch of him
and this heavy golden band.”

“Wasting away, loathing the days
until at last I’d die,
I felt the stirring of life inside
which I was unable to deny.”

“You,” she said, “both brought me dread
and convinced me to continue.”
She touched my cheek, she was so weak,
“I’m very glad that I had you.”

“What happened then, mother dear?”
My heart was squeezed quite tight.
“How did you live, with no money or friends
to shelter us through the night?”

She took a deep breath, it rattled and groaned,
her story almost told.
“I could never pawn this ruby ring,
sparkling and set in gold.”

Instead she worked from dawn till dusk,
toiled each and every day
She raised me depending only on herself,
flaxen hair soon fading to gray.

Money and comforts we had not,
and barely enough to eat,
only a warm place to lay our heads;
her life, so bittersweet.

For late at night, in my sleeping brow
She’d see her lover’s face,
and remember how he had betrayed her,
cheeks flaming with disgrace.

Yet never once during her years of pain
and struggle to survive,
did she ever take that ring off
or try to lay it aside.

The riches that the ring was worth
were not enough to tempt her
to sell it for bread, or wood to burn,
for it reminded her of the Voyager.

“And so,” said she, eyes burning through me,
“you must take it from my hand,
and when you do, this life I’ll leave,
but please, girl, understand.”

“This ring, you see, is a reminder to me
and to you as well,
of that dashing man who stole my heart—
forever may he burn in Hell!”

Her eyes rolled back, her face went slack,
yet still she continued on.
“You must know who your father is,
before I’m dead and gone.”

“He wasn’t a man, he wasn’t mortal,
but mystical was he.
Forever he will ride the waves,
and cross the wide, wide sea.

The devil,” she said, “urges him on
from country to country.
To fall in love for a short, short time,
then leave each lover in bloom.
Never to die, his body shall never
lie rotting in a tomb.”
“And neither will yours,” she said to me,
“for you, too, shall never die. 
Your father’s curse of eternity
was passed from him through I.”

“For he made a pact, when he was young,
the Devil he’d obey,
for adventure in life and a taste of wealth
he traded his soul away.”

“So wear this ring, and be aware
of the blood running in your veins.
For, my dear, you are only half human,
yet I love you just the same.”

“Use eternity wisely,
and when you meet your father,
tell him that I loved him
and never any other.”

And then she died, my dear mother;
my head was all awhirl. 
Could it be true, this story she told?
Was I not a normal girl?

The ring slid on, a perfect fit,
I felt my soul start burning.
Then I knew her words were true
my thoughts were all a-churning.

One hundred years later, here I sit
and never will I get older.
Here I sit, ring on hand,
waiting for the Voyager.