• A wanderer is someone who has nowhere to go

    Warping wind toward the west way
    Abiding the uncouth king,
    Nevertheless cradling a crippled name.
    Drinking himself dizzy,
    Earning an evil eye
    Recklessly resting on the raw ridge
    Eating each eerie hoard.
    Reaching right towards a bitter existence.

    Ice-cold priests
    Seeking to scathe shadows.

    Shielding the stark shape
    Overcoming the looming offer.
    Mankind can master the manifold challenge,
    Earning every nail in the back
    Often opening greedy gates,
    Narrowly knowing kind kin
    Each elder owing hoards of gold.

    Waning weather where winter
    Heaves hell
    Over the open offering.

    Heathen heat hallowed in the hand,
    Above an almighty adder
    Strewing sinews in a sheer stream.

    Neither needle nor night
    Openly bowing to a fallow king,
    Whereas wise widows withstand
    Holy heights of hawthorn,
    Earning an earthly evening,
    Rearing red rest
    Eking out edges where the earl should fall.

    Tread twain time through true threat
    Often owing others.

    God grimly girds the gallows
    Offering to overcome the idle oath.