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"Oma of my Hundredth Mother, good woman please
from your ageless dream,
Of your wise rede, I am much in need,
for these are trying tides,
trying tides indeed!"
"What troubles my four-and-hundredth son, what
weighs against your wit?
What so heavy makes your heart?
No small ordeal, it would seem to me,
if from my grave,
you'd rouse me."
"Much has happened, in the many years,
since upon the earth you stood.
Elders were taken, and the Old-Ways with them,
to the hollow halls
"Yes, beneath the road we've feasted, wary of the
since Irmunsil fell.
A party four and twenty strong, is sent to the world of men,
'fore you were born,
and each of forty generations."
"Dimly do I recall, a little of that timeless
'fore I was born,
A dream half remembered, it seems to be,
a guiding star.
"I know the reasons why we came, back to the world
after an age gone by.
Finally we've our freedom won, and now we have a chance,
the torch of troth to rekindle,
the ancestors to remember.
"But that road is not a straight, as I had
as a callow youth.
A band ganged around me, and swore their friendship strong,
first they over praised me,
and then they betrayed me.
"Snared in a web of lies, so artfully created,
that fact from fiction could not be told.
'Tis an illness so widespread, that misery has plagued,
our waning folk,
as long as I remember."
"Take now some courage, my four and hundredth son,
make bold your heart.
Yours is not the only party, to be dashed upon the rocks,
in all this time, both now,
and the age just passed.
"The task at hand is bigger than you, bigger than
you might wot,
bigger than you all recall.
Even your blood is not your own, but is a borrowed gift,
from the ancestors given,
to the World's Yet-born.
"And because the work is greater than you, much
greater than you are,
the greater you'll seem in the eyes of men,
who watch you work from afar, awed by your will and your wit,
that belief so beloved,
is awakened within.
"But dimly do they remember, barely can they
recall, the long way home.
And when they find, as find they must,
that you're not the hero they thought,
even where none they'll find some fault,
and go mad to knock you down.
"For every lie they've ever told, one lie they'll
give to you,
as if it were your own.
Chains have bound them all the years, every link a lie:
they'll make a bid for freedom,
by giving those chains to you.
"To break such spells that fall upon you, and
threaten to stop the work,
binding you with lies,
truthful be in everything, truthful without a break,
steadfastly true is from lesing,
the only way ahead."
"I know our folk are far from flawless, but more
we suffer ill health,
cut off from our source.
It both vexes my mind and breaks my heart, the choice that faces me now,
do I craft what is good or destroy what is evil,
what can the answer be?"
"At first blush it would seem, that to evil's bane
be, might be a good thing.
For wouldn't you owe a debt yet to be settled, for all of that woe
but to Wyrd,
for allowing that evil to be,
longer than you ought?
"At this crossroads many a warrior, wanders and
loses his way,
bringing more bane than boon.
All-knowing is not the mind of a man, what he thinks is not always sooth,
hate and fear feed on him,
who sleeps with his blade.
"Everyone holds both murky and bright, most are
and none know all;
Defend what is true and do what is right, but be not too quick to doom,
those who attack you,
wyrm-bitten they may be.
"To destroy what is evil, without destroying the
this the challenge would be:
Keep one eye upon the goal, another upon your back;
one battle the war is not,
small-minded never be.
"To break such a curse that is set down upon you,
by those who are eaten by hate,
fight the curse not the cursed.
If stop evil you can, then stop evil you must, better still by doing what's
craft what is good, to bring an end to the ill,
with the right use of will.
Wit you still more, or what?"
"True ring your words, wise is your rede, I thank
you for these and your blessing,
my four and hundredth mother.
But one more thing I would deign to know, before sleep does return you,
to the ageless dream,
of the ancestors.
"What makes a man divorce from his wits, what
causes him to fray,
and of his mind be losing?
Many good folk I've seen ensnared, in a web of lies,
cut off from the sooth,
far from world's truth."
"A fey wyrm is the source of the venom which
stings, the hearts and the minds of men,
though the wyrm cannot be blamed.
It simply feeds when life passes, and when slain becomes two,
each stronger than before,
in the hearts and minds of men.
"When bitten the venom seeps into the soul, and
lives within any small lie;
for every lie demands another.
A dream-world is crafted of many mistruths, and it swallows many a man,
cut off from his source,
cut off from the sooth.
"When the wyrm-bitten folk look out at the world,
the venom it makes like a mirror,
showing the illness that arises within.
Self-hate becomes hate for the world, and any who happen within it,
their shame becomes yours,
their debt your own.
"To battle this wyrm and heal its venom, and
restore good health to the folk,
sleep not with your sword,
For once slain becomes two, making lies out of truth, and bitten you
will've become, blaming the world,
for all your many troubles.
"Rather ground must be gained by the doing, by
crafting what's good and what's right,
with this threefold attack I will tell you:
First, your own yard must be surely a hame, of good luck and good
will with your kin, with no bones to haunt you,
no untruths to stand between kin.
"Second, the song that I will soon teach you, will
sing that dragon to sleep,
while medicine you make.
Music craft to mesmerize, that sickly serpent and its careless kin,
while undoing its hold on the folk,
one at a time.
"Thirdly, do teach what I have now told you, so
others may join in the work,
in their own backyards.
Watchful you should always be, over the houses of your kin,
and give signs for the learning,
and health of your neighbors."
"The world does not belong to you all, but is a
debt unpaid to the yet to be born,
every choice need now understand that.
But above all be daunted not, by the wind and the weather,
of a single year,
when all the ages you see."
"Now I maun sink."
© 2009 Dan Ralph Miller
Heartfelt Heathen Hip-Hop
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