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After The Ashen Spear

by Juleigh Howard-Hobson

My time is done, I know I’ll not
Ever see my land again,
And my flesh shall surely rot
In this god-forsaken spot
Where battle dead are left, forgot.

Those not yet born shall walk around
And see these hills where battle raged.
They shall not ween that underground
Are heads, that once with awe-helm crowned,
Now laid unknown, unnamed, unfound.

Yet, bone on bone in scrambled heap
We lie in masses here and there.
Skulls on kinsmen’s skulls we sleep
Ribs enmeshed we ever keep
Our frithful friendships in the deep.

Copyright © 2006 by Juleigh Howard-Hobson

[Author’s note: originally published, in slightly altered form, on]

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