Like the ocean, the barbarian life has its tides.
There are times of strife, and there are moments
of adventurous delight.
Bathing in moonshade beyond the edge of twilight.
Reflections in a sylvan pond told their tale
of things now gone.
Rinsing wild hair in the water.
Watching the moon sink beneath the silhouette
of distant woods. A still-life in real life.
Yet under the surface there's constant motion.
Barbarian hunting for game.
Things that seemed similar turned out to be
not the same.
In dawn, the chatter of birds.
The wind is restfully rippling the leaves.
Constant threat of war and death undeniable.
But this day some wounds are allowed to heal.
Some scars may be recovered of.
Some leave an eternal mark.
To be learned of.
Barbaric Dreaming.
Feasting with great joy
on the visions of World.
Preparing to die.
