In My Hero's Blood, I Drown
Journey o'er the stunning mountains
Towering high into the heavens,
Shuffles feet beneath the hunched form.
Pain was but a word which existed,
Caused phantasmagoric renderings in the air.
Death behind, despair before,
Wandering lost alleviated the woeful pangs
Racking a scarred heart.
Ne'er was a rescuer required,
For when solitude is all that is known,
Night is the eternal medicine man,
With tantalizing facades of knowledge
And silent mystery painted illustriously above.
Wavering secrets were lifted to the orbs--
Shimmering brilliance veiled in red--
Where no ears could hear the doleful cries.
This confidence arrested the soul.
Then one day, e'er imprinted deep,
Another's song waltzed with the deep velvet
Of mine stunning night.
The words spoke of fealty
And swore upon the hearth of faith
To guard the pain which harbored deep
Dying yet growing anew inside.
Ne'er had mine cries asked for you,
Yet Valhalla set its tantalizing visage
Expertly before your eyes.
Its wonders invoked a yearning to protect,
Wage war and embrace death,
To save a wretched soul,
In return for eternal exaltation.
Now I find myself alone,
Kneeling softly down upon the coarse ground.
Your severed head laid gently in mine lap,
The scarlet-tainted hair running harshly through mine fingers.
A hero's death you have achieved,
Valhalla's majestic halls are beckoning your soul,
Yet mine deepened pain has failed,
The doleful cries have fallen upon unwelcome ears.
Slowly the thick and metallic fluid
Coats the mouth and lungs.
Heaving in a final mournful breath--
Niflheim and Hela boding in the distance--
In my hero's blood, I drown.