Hall of the Slain

told to hold my shoulders up, I cling to it and shiver

chilly winter, to spring, falling before timber

future king, time to use the wings and make a difference

lunar looms with no eclipse, the snow carries prints

the feats I’ve achieved, the lack of deeds done

trust, I’m forgiven, gone and looking on with pride

a legacy to grief, nothing more to come in stride

cold enough to splinter skin, putting on the shoe that fits

brought to knees revisiting, love to bits and bits

the feats I’ve achieved, the lack of deeds done

the pain and sting, the strikes, the lack of thought

hardly making changes, committed, died and fought

one guy, always thinking bad guy, trying

taking under kind, under mine, without tying

the feats I’ve achieved, the lack of deeds done

It hardly makes a difference, even with a father gone

going, going, going, until the final breath is done

savaged and ravaged, brought to grounds, swallow mud

I leave a legend tied, continue to laugh and run

the feats I’ve achieved, the lack of deeds done.

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