Sealed within that
icy tomb from
where he defied her
cruel enchanted
resistance,
his soul watches
blizzards sweep above
his frozen head to gather
among rocky
crevices.


No burning pyre for
that man of chance.
No casket of wood to
inter him.
No mourners to sing of
his violent passing but
still perfect
his body lies
where Nature rules,
giving vent to her fury;

her powerful frustration.