A mother mourns the loss of her son. The most wonderful man in
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the world; light and shining, fair and beautiful as no other man.
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Light blond hair, wonderful skyblue eyes and a skin so fair it
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shines! Tall and handsome, strong and brave, perfect in all his
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being. Now he is dead! Silent. Alone. Watching the lands and
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others from a window up high in the clouds. Cold of sorrow,
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exhausted by grief; the very little remaining life is fading
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away. Too tired to move, too mournful to think of anything else
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then her dead son. The others are preparing the defense of the
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town, and her husband has left to find the avenger for the
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killing. Nobody thinks of her, nobody has any time for her. She
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is left alone, to mourn the death of her son.
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The Lonesome Mourning Of Frijo
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| Burzum |
