Age of Runes

Fates now faded from a twilight time

when heathen hearts whitened and waned.

Told in tongues in riddles and in rhymes

treading in times when runes did reign.

Winds do whisper of fame and fortune.

The stone is standing for the pagan pride.

For the bonds of blood the widow wept.

He kindred kept her tears in tide.

During the sacred tunes

there is steel to the stone.

Raised in the age of runes

oh memorial throne.

Grand the granite carved and cut

the mourner's monument of stone by steel.

In sinuous serpents from a mason's mind

the fortunate find what the runes reveal.

Read the red and taste the tales

hearken the hammers beating blows

solemnly singing from the yesteryears

of tales and tears and a widow's woe

During the sacred tunes

there is steel to the stone.

Raised in the age of runes

oh memorial throne.