Forgotten Ground Regained
A Riddle
Cold and cutting, · my coming is feared,For none may know · the nature of my advent:With a cat’s quiet, · I creep in the dark,Or fast, in a fury, · like a feral wolf.I am the end of all, · the eater of gladness,The cease of suffering, · the severer of ties,The herald of Hel, · the hero’s kiss,The scythe-swinger, · the sword’s harvest,The winter’s woe, · the widow-maker;Inevitable my advent, · yet I am ever shunned,A lonely lord, · my law is absolute.
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