My Hands Were Made to Hold the Wind
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This soul is amorphous
Glowing through nature in strange patterns
Desperate follower, I wandered untraceably far from home
Lured by its trail โ
flashes of gold
Lured to the mountain & lulled to sleep
This was the one day no child should have slept
The caravan had come
To take those marked at birth for sacrifice in the River of Muninn
I was among the marked โ
the ring of youth โ
appointed to be drowned at dawn โ
on the chosen day โ
but I slept through the conjuring โ
slept through the drums & horns โ
I would have been a guardian โ
Watching the grace of wisdom โ
blossom through the ages โ
instead I watched the stones & torches โ of the village banish me โ
Self disintegrated
โ Passion untarnished โ
There must be another way โ
The entity I was chasing โ
The vicar of my failure โ
expands upon my grief a notion โ
glory in the wake of abandonment โ
the river is still mine to take โ
the soul is still mine to guard โ
immortal passion in fast aging skin โ
my hands were made to hold the wind