Bereft

Upon the shore she stood,
Next to a sacrificial pyre,
As she spoke to the Gods ~
‘Hail Njord of Vanheim, a harrowed woman I am, and offer you this sacrifice.
Carry my words to the bottom of the sea,
to my brother’s ear.’
Her mouth donned a smile,
Though her heart still stung,
She shed silent tears for her brother,
Who had died so young.
‘It is a cruel thing, Brother, that forged our fates such as they are.
The promise of glory pains me so,
Even though I know,
That I will die, sword in hand,
And dine in Allfather’s hall ~
With whom shall I share the tales,
The laughter, and the Ale?
I am bereft, dearest brother,
my closest friend.’
Her hands produced a waterskin,
Filled to the brim with mead,
She drank one gulp and poured,
The rest into the sea.
‘Hail once more, Njord of the Sea, receive my thanks and another gift for thee.’

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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