Svipdag's Sonnet, I

The moon mocks me, bids me tend
down through labyrinthine caverns
there to seek the world's deep end
and drink the draughts of Mimir's tavern.
Yet in my mind I know I'll never
of that Well of Wisdom drink
for only souls more worthy ever
allowed are over that font's brink.
My lunacy doth draw me down
the edge of blade more wondrous seek
that victory bringing when is found
make blood of father's killer leak.
For destiny I must fulfill
like siren's call, beyond my will.