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A wanderer is someone who has nowhere to go
Warping wind toward the west way
Abiding the uncouth king,
Nevertheless cradling a crippled name.
Drinking himself dizzy,
Earning an evil eye
Recklessly resting on the raw ridge
Eating each eerie hoard.
Reaching right towards a bitter existence.
Ice-cold priests
Seeking to scathe shadows.
Shielding the stark shape
Overcoming the looming offer.
Mankind can master the manifold challenge,
Earning every nail in the back
Often opening greedy gates,
Narrowly knowing kind kin
Each elder owing hoards of gold.
Waning weather where winter
Heaves hell
Over the open offering.
Heathen heat hallowed in the hand,
Above an almighty adder
Strewing sinews in a sheer stream.
Neither needle nor night
Openly bowing to a fallow king,
Whereas wise widows withstand
Holy heights of hawthorn,
Earning an earthly evening,
Rearing red rest
Eking out edges where the earl should fall.
Tread twain time through true threat
Often owing others.
God grimly girds the gallows
Offering to overcome the idle oath.
- by Kira Kahli |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 02/10/2013 |
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- Title: The Wanderer
- Artist: Kira Kahli
- Description: An acrostic poem made almost entirely of words in English which came from Anglo-Saxon. The title was too long, so I had to put it with the poem itself.
- Date: 02/10/2013
- Tags: wanderer anglosaxon acrostic
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