Epitaph for a Hunter

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Beware the beast named sadness, boy.

Young you are, and summer still

In all its kindness, all its grace,

Feels warm upon your back.

Strong are your arms and legs, and tight

Is the grip on your father's shining shield

(your father's shield, your father's sword,

His boots and greaves, his map).

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A cunning beast! A dreadful beast!

Oh, who could hunt what does not run

From fire and hound and hunting horn?

Oh, who would dare to try?

Creep softly and with caution, boy.

Your torchlight glimmers through the trees

And who can tell which eyes will glimpse,

Which mouths will start to smile.

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Years have passed since summer, boy,

And now your breath will make the wreath

That hangs around your golden head.

Oh, lay your weapons down.

A hunter you will always be,

And though you may not best your prey-

Such courage dwelt within your heart!

Such footsteps shook the ground!

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1:https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9hfyub/tomorrows_moon/

2:https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9h8lpz/splinters/