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Last Battle

What thirsts without ceasing, no slaking to follow?
What wholeness rebukes and what shimmer condemns?
A silent sword standing unmoved in a corner;
A shield resting whole against armour undimmed.

What steel demands tribute, an oath ever wanting?
What creature reproves and what leather cries out?
A hauberk and helmet no more gone a-warring;
A horse standing still and a harness unworn.

What sound becomes torment, to anguish the sleeper?
What vision disturbs and what mem'ries denounce?
A battle horn winding away beyond reaching;
A field far beyond in a time snatched away.

What wound burns the deepest, no healing to soothe it?
What tether cuts deep and what debt goes unpaid?
A wounded soul torn from its fellows a-marching;
A body cut down from the heart's will this day.

What eyes turn away, unwilling, from battle?
What spirit enraged and what agony borne?
A fighter denied the true path of his calling;
A wolf left behind -- gone a-hunting no more.


Posted by: Sian verch Gruffydd on 10/13/2007

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