A Rondeau about finding a glowing rune on the front door
|Imbibing a hue on my otherwise bland door
A mysterious script from the days of yore
Cool to the touch, yet warm to the eye
Anglo Saxon, an ancient rune, I cry
Rushing in, wanting to see more
Then fear grips me to my inner core
For defenses, I have none to shore
Is this really my time to die?
When imbibing a hue
Shivers, and then a tear falls down to the floor
What terrible message does it have for me in store?
Commanding me to depart to an abode so high
In sadness, excitement, and nervousness, I let out a sigh
Knowing that my life will no more be a bore
Imbibing a hue