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A poem about an old warrior who can not escape his fate, passing to the afterworld. |
| Gingerly sweet the whisper seeps Through the forest so deep Beyond the king of three winters go A freshly fallen virgin snow Deep in the abyss kindles a spark Can you hear the silenced lark? Soft and tender my journey's step To the old woman who has wept The perilous forest is unforgiving Especially to those among the living Weeping still she rests near the stream Echoes not her grieving scream Curious eyes watch in sorrow for none know what comes the morrow Upon bended knee in the moon's glow A solitary tear to the stream below She cradles the warrior like a child Deep within this forest so wild Tarnished armour blades of rust So fragile this tender trust Linger long her mournful sobs For a life the gods have robbed Brave warrior of old all agree But fate comes to even thee. |