Late Night Prayer

I pray to you
Gods of ancient bloods
Mentors of kin I never knew
Family long forgotten
The world has changed
But you have not
Of the world, yet high above it.

Mentors of old, I wish to know
knowledge and bravery
I have never known
How could I in this changed world?
Teach me to be brave and strong
Of the sort men sang sagas about
Teach me to be quick and wise
Of the kind the old poems raise
I don’t need to be a hero
I don’t need to become legend
I simply wish to be a hero mine
to claim command over the life I borrow
You do so much, yet I do so little
I feel caged, like a rat in a wheel
The more I run, the more it spins
And yet the journeyman ventures nowhere
Give me knowledge and courage of my ancestors
Give me the tools they used to succeed,
the swords by which they cut their own paths,
the hammers by which they built their futures.
If I cannot command my life by modern means
then perhaps I will find my future in the past
Armed with that which my ancestors had
I will reach out and claim the life I desire
A life of independence and freedom
Where I live and one day perish
But as a man who made his own decisions
A man who did not have to kneel to others
and when the time comes for me to join you
Make it such an end that the world trembles
Not by strength, power, and fire
but by the righteousness of my mortal passing.

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