Feb 2014
The battlements crumble,
The mead-halls decay
Joyless and still, the warriors sleep
Where they fell by the wall, they defended.
The bright ale cup lies trampled underfoot,
And only the gray wolves drink deeply,
Of the lifeblood so carelessly spilled
By their master, their mother
The very Earth herself.
The mead-halls decay
Joyless and still, the warriors sleep
Where they fell by the wall, they defended.
The bright ale cup lies trampled underfoot,
And only the gray wolves drink deeply,
Of the lifeblood so carelessly spilled
By their master, their mother
The very Earth herself.
i don't know who originally wrote this, but this is the version that i can always remember.
(21/F/Between heaven and hell.)
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