Marrow

The marrow of the mind -

For that you fail to find,

Is nor bone nor fleshy hue

But to what most eyes are blind.

 

Burning fast through and through

By walks of Hell, though may so few,

Most search but never see

That everlasting sun-struck dew.

 

And by Heaven flight so free,

Some say those wings measure thee,

Yet careful for that end of life,

In death some keep their fee.

 

That bends upon unending strife,

And those who wish it left behind,

Call upon the hands of Fates

Whose cut can shred thy twine.

 

In times of early and of late,

So many strove for theirs to take,

Unknowing it’s beyond their reach

But held so tight, for fear life forsake.

Author's Note

This is a riddle. And my first post for a long, long, long time. But, I figure with Thoughts for the Night up and running, and now LINKING to this site, I had better spruce it up a bit for my like, what, 2 readers? :) Anyway, I digress, this was written for my Literature class, and, like most of my creative writing assignments in that class, I went kinda overboard. (BTW, this teacher does not let me get away with my overflow-writing-thing I've been doing and getting away with for the past few years. I can't tell if she's clever and trying to pull in my reigns, or just can't understand me well enough to give me a decent grade) This was a riddle based upon... I think the Vikings? Because they used to tell oratory riddles? Maybe? I don't remember. Anyway. I wrote this in my traditionally obscure manner, and though it may SEEM many answers could apply, only one truly does in all parts of the poem. If I get enough hits, I'll spill the answer. So i'm thinking at this rate... it'll take like 30 years before I need to tell it? Right? :)