The Fallen 

I wade through the water
Guiding the pyre to the current
The water now matched the winter season
If I slip or lose the line
A warrior’s funeral
I shall not get
 
I feel the current
And the line tightens
The rocks underfoot were unstable
Make it hard for me to stand firm
A warrior’s funeral
Will happen this night 
 
I push the pyre
Watching as it floats away
The current has a tight grip on me
But on the shore, my brothers pull
I hear them
Heave, ho, heave, ho
 
The current fights with them
But they pull with the strength of the gods 
The grip begins to loosen
I start to move
The heat from the fires
Warms the surface of the waves
 
I am on the shore
By the flames, wrapped in pelts
The songs start
Carried down the coastline by the breeze
The words speak of the battle
Where a warrior fought
 
I give the order
One arrow soars through the sky
Guided by a flame
It hits the pyre; we all watch the fire grow
The fallen warrior now engulfed
This is a warrior’s funeral

This is just a little poem I wrote a few months back.

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