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~ By Courtesy of Others ~


Come Again

Riding on a lathered steed
His Ravens on the wing
Laughter cuts across the wind
For the time has come again

Six there were, young and hard
Guns were drawn for show
Old and fat, Iím slowing down
But the time had come again

A throat in my left fist
Stolen pistol in my right
Rage burned the years away
Odinís laughter lit the night

Four did run, and two did crawl
Left me standing where we met
Years and pounds forgotten now
Itís not my Wyrd I met

Hanging bleeding on the tree,
For the secrets of the runes
Empty socket speaks of price to pay
For the time has come again

In a crowd of hundred do I stand
When the cries begin to sound,
A hundred cry but none to act
So the time has come again

A womanís life hangs by a thread
In a place thatís not my own
I take command with a whispered word
And naught but my own two hands

Hands freely offered to do my will
Tools swiftly brought to my side
Fighting while seeking her secrets out
Ere they take her swift to her grave

Fought to keep the breath in her
Fought when I lost the pulse
Strove with every ounce of skill
Until they both had come again.

Brooding at table in his boisterous hall
Feeding scraps to his Ravens and Wolves
Why must you test me I whisper to him
The words win a pitiless laugh

Call on my aid and a warrior I send
You are just what I had near to hand
Fight on or die, for the folk and the right
And wait Ďtill the call comes again.

© John T Mainer

This work by John T Mainer is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.

The Freyr's Press of the Heathen Freehold Society of BC:
Kindertales and Kindertales 2 by John T Mainer et al.

Image: Carving of rider, carved into rocks in the Himalayan Glade
of Wakehurst Place garden. Anonymous carver, prior to 1936.
Public domain.

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