Many Shields

I am never alone
Ancient Oak stands, sprouted seed sown
The solstice flame burned bright
Oath bound heroes from beyond sight
For the Divine Crows herald my coming quake
The Honoured Dead stampede in my wake
I have many shields
Ever standing Oak of the Field
Shatter and split my grasp
I shall rise again, never will I ask
Cast me down and curse my name
Cut my skin, seek fleeting fame
I have many shields
Many hearts, never alone in the field
The Divine Crows herald my coming
The Honoured Dead appear from nothing
They call me father, brother and son
Were you walk we shall never shun
The Storm Maidens grant me blissful sleep
Honey soaked, moaning never meek
The Warriors Lone grant the sword strong
My path of fellowship will never be long
Seek to cast me from the field
I give not an inch, for I have many shields

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