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Conversation With A Corpse
son:
I speak to you, Hanged Man
Side split with spear
An oracle of doom
I have questions of you, corpse
Hanged Man:
Mine eye is open
And dead I speak
What troubles you, tiny son
To seek me at this tree
son:
Wise Father of the Slain
Raging rivers flow with dead heroes
Filling full my lake
From which am I to drink?
Hanged Man:
Once from each
Your question is in your quest
A letter in each one
You must spell its name
son:
Long have I swum in sorrow and joy
Searching for each rune
To bind soul and blood
I can name them now
From the north, every one
Hearty and strong
From frozen forests
Though now I seek the beauty of Sol
From the first river flow
Warriors tall, hair of gold
They conquered fairy kingdoms
Split life into dark and light
From the second river flow
Heroes and Kings
Spear Danes and Sword Friends
Living on in halls and mounds
From the third river flow
The Aelder men of these
From black forests they broke the line
Of legionaires, strong men
From the fourth river flow
Not but a trickle to the others
A people of wild rice and red skin
Whose call comes, barely heard
From the fifth river flow
Blackest blood, a people unknown
A name now Nithling
A father foul and foolish
Hanged Man:
Once from each
To test the tides
To measure the strongest!
Who comes out from grave?
son:
With each drink
Another set and style
Two I have tested
That come on strong
Hanged Man:
Once for each
At every taste a body
Inherit these peoples´ mind
It would do well to know their ways.
© James Smith aka Kelticmutt
kelticmutt at yahoo.com (remove "at" and the spaces)
Noose by Chris 73, adapted by WJBscribe, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.
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