High upon this hill of long grass we sit in repose staring off in the distance
down upon the valley and village of our youth
the sun is setting in the sky and I feel its fading warmth
pushing us toward winter pushing me back toward duty and my destiny
but my dream is now with you at my side and nothing to want or worry
A child runs with purpose against the blowing grasses
This child your child your boy left as a gift and testament from his father
runs quickly into your welcoming arms winded breathing a familiar innocence
out into this undeserving world
the weight of my purse has become burdensome as it presses against
my sword and side I rip it free from my body
this bloodprice bloodmoney I have never had a use for until now
Possibly to do good could justify the price it has cost my conscience
Freely I pass it over to you
As the wind blows between us you know
soon I will be gone
Categories:
bloodmoney, adventure, angst, caregiving, happiness,
Form: Epic