Leavings

 

I am the son of rage

The son of song

But neither burn nor sing

I am the son of passions and mysteries

But god am I

Of leavings

 

I do not boast

Nor whisper soft

I do not care for secrets

Remember me with scraps of boots

I am the god

Of leavings

 

I do not wave a banner bold

I sound no call to battle

I end the wolf

That grows fat on such

I am the god

Of leavings

 

My father picks o’er the field

Gathering the fallen

Who cares for those who marched away?

Who but the god of debt repaid

Who but the god

Of leavings

 

Silent in my father’s hall

Silent one they call me

I have no time for empty boasts

Not with so many needing

I am he who neither speaks nor rests

I am the god

Of leavings

 

For Vidar Odinson

 

Slayer of Fenris Wolf, Avenger of Odin, the Silent One, the Jaw-Breaker.  Honoured once with the scraps from boot and shoe making, and who receives still the trimmings from my own laces.  Vidar is the god of leavings, the god of prices paid, the god of costs.  Vidar starts no conflict, only ends them.

 

Seek him if you are the leavings of strife, shattered, tattered yet unyielding.  From such as us he crafted that which broke the jaws of Fenris Wolf.  He is Empty of Boasts, he is the Unbroken, he is the God of Leavings.  In a society as fundamentally as broken as our own, he is more needed than his father.