June 2018 – Sea Kin and Raven Wime

 

 

 

The messenger came with a tale of woe carried in his last breath,

“Fire and blood, War-Wolves wild, shriek from the sea,

Soot dark eyes and teeth of black, new men of the north,

Strike iron-hard and vanish fast as morning mist

Leaving roofless halls, grim burned ports, and raven’s feasting

In a crimson wake from Far Isles to Saxon Shore.