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The Gull Archives
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An Anglo Saxon Riddle
from Wulfric of Creigull
I am an exile, iron wounded,
blade battered, battle sated,
sword weary. War I see often,
fight foes. I fear no comfort
or help comes for me in cruel strife
before I am wrecked among warriors,
but hammered blades hack me,
hard edged hate sharp handwork of smiths
strikes me in strongholds; I must stay for
a crueler clash. No cure was ever
found by folk in their fields
which could heal my wounds with herbs,
but day and night through deadly blows
the swords' wounds widen in my flesh.
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