In the mists of the gloaming,

we float tweedy in the moonlight,

Kyrkogrim would normally be an animal spirit, 

but here I am, at the foot of the altar.


The fist person buried in a church yard would become a kyrkogrim,

to save a human soul from the task, they would use a black dog,

on this day, inside the chest, also lay a man,

an evil pact between the buyer and the priest, they sort to kill me quick.


Alive I was a hinge to the drilling rights, 

my demise would make the pact null and void,

so together with the beast, I was covered in a soily seal,

who believed in the grim anyway, they laughed,

it was just a fib to scare away thieves.


As the sacrifice progressed, two lives were transformed into the next,

destiny rescinded their act,

woken up anew, we were released to go prowl, 

the hound protects, I carry a vendetta,

like a petal we float, hovering over my fathers land,

waiting for any driller who staggers in the night, past the old church,

the end of the shibboleth has thus began. 


Wordle #122 “September 26th, 2016”

For more about this challenge see link above.

pic from the web.


4 thoughts on “Vendetta.

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