The Mortal

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Well-known member
May 28, 2020
37.76655478735988, -122.48572468757628
The Mortal
by Najwalaylah as Casilda

Flowers he picks, with picks he hews;
And axe-work strengthens all his thews.
He learns to jump and fall and land
And sit and eat and rest and stand.
He builds campfires, hunts for meat,
Learns recipes for things to eat.
If he would fight, for woe or weal,
He solves the riddle of the steel
Or, if fat-- or fast and clever--
He may make his mind a lever
To tame the beasts or wake the dead
Or heal or steal or blast instead.
He walks, and rides, and strides, and roaams;
Builds stables, castles, stately homes;
Bridges repairs, tears down a wall;
Foes' tears fall when he kills them all.
When he dies, he treads the Ether;
Dark or light, he fears them neither,
Nor heat nor cold nor wixard glance;
Not bow, nor spear, nor sword, nor lance.
Reknowned, his deeds redound
to praise or blame;
And then his presence fades,
and, last, his name.

Licensed under the following terms:
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)
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