Fifteen times the leaves had shorn, Trod by boy and beast Kith and kin to fare him well The youngling parted east
The rite was whet and worn with time, As sons dared risk unseen Mere passage had convinced the herd, And none defied routine
Eyes, fixed afar - a trial to come Now, his suffering - only begun
He journeyed deep into the woods, And took no drink or food Desperate to become a man, 'Fore stupor choked his mood
Carrion gloated at each step, In dreams the evil milled Doubting every sickened thought Depraved against his will Eyes, turn inwards - observe with hate Now, this suffering - will not abate
Growing weakness in his gait He slumped beneath the sun Each bleeding foot began to weep Skin and bone was one
Rousing with a fitful gasp He crawled on tattered knees And bound for home by moon and star His trial was complete
Staggers carried him to town His joy was soon to shed Kith and kin would greet him not For each one was dead
The sixteenth leaves began to fall Indifferent, they withstood Now, a man with nothing left He turned back for the woodTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
