Seven deadly Sorrows walked along a wintry path,
One turned to another and said "I fear not the Winter King's wrath."
"Then you are a fool," said the other. "It is he who holds power here."
"I care not," said the first. "I have nothing to lose, nothing I hold dear."
These seven deadly Sorrows were Loss, Anger, Fear,
Revenge, Remorse, Guilt, and Grief, to no rules do they adhere.
They wore cloaks of shadows, their faces hidden,
They go where they wish, wanted or unbidden,
When a great hew and cry arose from the village they neared,
Fear flinched at the spears the raised, and Anger laughed at him and sneered,
"You poor pitiful fool, they cannot harm us, not now!
"There is no way, no thought, no how!"
"But we are in the Winter King's Kingdom," said Loss,
"Who knows what goes and what won't, perhaps a coin we should toss?"
"Utter foolishness," wizened and venerable Grief stated,
"Our coming is assured, certain, and even a bit belated!"
"Why? Are we not expected as part of life?" Remorse asked.
"Nay," said Revenge, "Humans think life is amazing, pure and unmasked."
"It is sad," replied Guilt, "to think we were once like them, naïve and alive."
For these deadly Sorrow take no breath now, and they seek to others of it deprive.
As the seven Sorrows entered the village, everything became still and quiet,
This came as a surprise to the Sorrows who had been expecting a riot.
Out from the crowd stepped a young boy, no older than eight,
And in his face the Sorrows could see no hate.
"Greetings, Sorrows," said the boy, his face white as snow, eyes blue as ice,
Anger snorted, Revenge laughed, Guilt snickered, and they made no attempt to be nice.
"Little boy, you have no right to extend us greetings!" said one of them,
But the boy-child smiled chillily and said coolly, "My hospitality I would not condemn."
It was Remorse who saw the ancient gleam in the boy's eyes,
And when he turned to his fellows, he said in surprise,
"Hush now! The boy is no mere boy! He is the Winter King!
Anger sneered. "Where is his staff of ice, and his bloodstone ring?"
The Winter King was thousands of years young,
And he smiled as he watched the smarter Sorrows bite their tongue,
For he was the father of their father, Bad Luck, because the earth was born in winter,
A fact that in the gods' sides needled like a sharp splinter.
One turned to another and said "I fear not the Winter King's wrath."
"Then you are a fool," said the other. "It is he who holds power here."
"I care not," said the first. "I have nothing to lose, nothing I hold dear."
These seven deadly Sorrows were Loss, Anger, Fear,
Revenge, Remorse, Guilt, and Grief, to no rules do they adhere.
They wore cloaks of shadows, their faces hidden,
They go where they wish, wanted or unbidden,
When a great hew and cry arose from the village they neared,
Fear flinched at the spears the raised, and Anger laughed at him and sneered,
"You poor pitiful fool, they cannot harm us, not now!
"There is no way, no thought, no how!"
"But we are in the Winter King's Kingdom," said Loss,
"Who knows what goes and what won't, perhaps a coin we should toss?"
"Utter foolishness," wizened and venerable Grief stated,
"Our coming is assured, certain, and even a bit belated!"
"Why? Are we not expected as part of life?" Remorse asked.
"Nay," said Revenge, "Humans think life is amazing, pure and unmasked."
"It is sad," replied Guilt, "to think we were once like them, naïve and alive."
For these deadly Sorrow take no breath now, and they seek to others of it deprive.
As the seven Sorrows entered the village, everything became still and quiet,
This came as a surprise to the Sorrows who had been expecting a riot.
Out from the crowd stepped a young boy, no older than eight,
And in his face the Sorrows could see no hate.
"Greetings, Sorrows," said the boy, his face white as snow, eyes blue as ice,
Anger snorted, Revenge laughed, Guilt snickered, and they made no attempt to be nice.
"Little boy, you have no right to extend us greetings!" said one of them,
But the boy-child smiled chillily and said coolly, "My hospitality I would not condemn."
It was Remorse who saw the ancient gleam in the boy's eyes,
And when he turned to his fellows, he said in surprise,
"Hush now! The boy is no mere boy! He is the Winter King!
Anger sneered. "Where is his staff of ice, and his bloodstone ring?"
The Winter King was thousands of years young,
And he smiled as he watched the smarter Sorrows bite their tongue,
For he was the father of their father, Bad Luck, because the earth was born in winter,
A fact that in the gods' sides needled like a sharp splinter.
To be continued...
