All Paths and Lives Must Converge at Ragnarok

He grew to manhood in the Texas hill country-
The places he walked as a child other times were sundry-

The Land of milk and honey, Babylonia, Ole Virginia-
The shadow of Rome, the fertile crescent of Egypt and Macedonia-

The far Northern land of the Norse, Judea, Normandy and Oxford-
Taking stock of the past for lessons learned but always facing forward-

Fond memories of Aquitaine, Westminster and the Castile Rose-
Memories of other paths beyond the stars but he has always been home where his feet goes-

The names used have been varied, multitudes of many tongues and different dialect-
The ones loved, ones trusted, ones held close in the dark of night were select-

Pain of betrayal and death, heartbreak of the loss of life in it’s prime-
Knowledge learned, understanding grasped, wisdom gained were pricey but sublime-

Battles fought, wars won and lost, spilled blood which cries out in the dark of night-
Sometimes stumbling, sometimes wrong, but always trusting he was progressing towards the Light-

Always aware of the workings of the gears, the tick-tock of the celestial clock-
Knowing one day all paths and lives must converge at Ragnarok.

The Ole Dog!

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