Holfgir's Lament

Verse in the Greek tragic style with my own spin on it - no set meter really. I appreciate any comments :)

The lullaby of longing softening our minds

From the mists come whispers of agony and malice -

In that herald’s hearth, great treachery committed -

And reverberated throughout the marshes under veiled moon

Upon that sacred aegis he laid -

Slain and torn asunder by spirits

Fury and wrath that compels all of the Sanguine

Hath torn asunder that great Hero of old

In memorial few stand, and his remains stifled by thirst

Bones restless in parched Earth. 

Gaia may hold him!

In those wretched minds where remembrance holds vigilant -

So did the voices in the air thicken and torment

In solemnity and dulled faculties we rested in that great marsh

Until weary lament gave way to justice’s call

That rhythmic triumphant hymn of our march to that city of blood

In idleness those whispers reaped our battered souls -

Until drowned under the sea of battle