You were an egg of mine.
It was but yesterday
That many a sibling of yours,
I, in a frenzy did lay.
But for them is not
The light of day.
The short night will end.
I shall be put to sleep.
I shall with the others
Descend into the deep.
So hear the wisdom
That I now speak.
Ere the long night passes
Will you emerge,
Donned in maidenly white.
Avoid every sexual urge,
Lest the gods despise you
And all of you then purge.
If you live, you are special.
For that you shall be caged.
You will breathe the vapours.
You shall be displayed.
If truly gods seek you,
Your match shall be arranged.
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Wrong though it does sound,
I pray your mate is a sibling.
Your end shall be of age,
Your line never ending,
Through the long night spent
In but feeding and breeding.
But if a stranger is your mate,
This wisdom I leave you.
When the short night ends,
Be strong, be true.
The prison will open
And you must go through.
You may escape,
Or meet the spirits below.
But before the end,
Before you have to go,
Share this wisdom.
The young must know.
--Titus Ponrathnam-- |