We laid him down
on a field of flames
in the ruddy glow
of sunset’s blood

Upon his breast
lay his shattered shield
in clenched fingers
was his notched blade

Upon his cheeks
was Woden’s sign
upon his lips
the pale name of death

Within his hair
bramble and holly
broken charcoal
and earth

Upon his skin
the wither-rot stood
sculpting each bone
with time’s harsh tongue

We carried the dragon
to the water’s edge
and cold the fjord
around our feet

Set sail to wind
and gathered voices
rouse the gods
call for safe passage

We drank his name
under the fires of dawn
and wait to see him
at the end of all things

About Eric

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