Don’t you feel bad for Grendel,
His mind is poisoned by the devil.
He is just a lost boy in a harsh world against him.
Voices in his head push him towards the brim.
He hates the world that he roams alone,
The Dragon’s charm; his flesh hard as stone.
The Shaper's voice; his head is aching,
Wealtheow’s beauty; his heart is breaking.
Grendel's mother’s embrace—a silent plea,
In her shadowed depths, he struggles to be free.
From Beowulf’s strength, he cannot hide,
The warrior's might marks Grendel’s tide.
Grendel's anger seals his fate,
Fatal madness will not abate.
His demise is in the mead hall,
“Poor Grendel’s had an accident. . . . So may you all.”
Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 11:58 PM UTC
Don’t you feel bad for Grendel,
His mind is poisoned by the devil.
He is just a lost boy in a harsh world against him.
Voices in his head push him towards the brim.
He hates the world that he roams alone,
The Dragon’s charm; his flesh hard as stone.
The Shaper's voice; his head is aching,
Wealtheow’s beauty; his heart is breaking.
Grendel's mother’s embrace—a silent plea,
In her shadowed depths, he struggles to be free.
From Beowulf’s strength, he cannot hide,
The warrior's might marks Grendel’s tide.
Grendel's anger seals his fate,
Fatal madness will not abate.
His demise is in the mead hall,
“Poor Grendel’s had an accident. . . . So may you all.”
The final draft a poem that I wrote on my old account after reading Grendel by John Gardner. The original is reposted on my page.