A Vow of Blood and Bone

(Dawn Isbell Wilson)

This song is loosely based on the poem Christabel by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I had so much fun writing "She Walks the Graveyard" that I decided to create one with an even more Gothic theme. I found an old poem which I had, at first, intended to update for modern times but the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to keep the story, let alone modernize it. I love the Gothic theme of the poem, rich with moonlit woods, spectral presences, and ambiguous evil. However, as I started writing it, the more I wanted to twist the tale into something completely different. I hope you enjoy reading these lyrics when we enter into the season of pumpkins, bats, ghosts, and hobgoblins, or just whenever the mood strikes.

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Verse 
After many nights of torment, she’d wait for his return 
One night she walked the forest among the trees and ferns 
There she walked in darkness a sliver of moon her guide 
She came upon another maid with eyes in terror wide 
The maid a pale and ghostly glow called out to her by name 
"Christabel, please help me and save me from my shame." 
As she told her story, a maid she was no more  
But a victim of betrayal impossible to ignore 
 
Chorus 
Beware the ones who walk alone at night among the trees  
The forest keeps their secrets close and hides the truth with ease  
A voice may call, a hand may reach, but do not step too near  
For death can wear a maiden’s face and speak in tones sincere 
 
Verse 
She knelt beside the weeping girl and brushed her tangled hair  
Her fingers froze with sudden dread at something in the air  
“Who are you,” asked Christabel, “you know my name, but how?”  
Silence fell the maid looked up, with anger in her brow  
“I waited by the river’s bend; I called but none would come  
He swore he’d fight for love of me, I knew you were the one”  
And Christabel, now laughing, she saw with clearest eyes  
“You know me, but hadn’t heard of my unfortunate demise” 
 
Chorus 
Beware the ones who walk alone at night among the trees  
The forest keeps their secrets close and hides the truth with ease  
A voice may call, a hand may reach, but do not step too near  
For death can wear a maiden’s face and speak in tones sincere 
 
Verse 
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© Dawn Isbell Wilson 2025