In prayer, I feel them
Weight on my left
Buzz on my right
War and Trickery must be
A silly thing to worship
And yet, I'm kneeling
And I'm offering
And I feel them
The Lord of War sits at my left
Heavy like a weighted blanket
Dark and Still and Silent
He never speaks unless he has to
Speaks when I need to hear Him
The Lord of Travel is at my right
He bounds and is bright
An electric tingle I know as his
Chatty as ever, a roar of a car
Of course, the Messenger will talk
I ask of War to be my brother in arms
A brotherhood of protection
Steady as they come
I ask Trickery to keep my wits about
Weave intricacies on my tongue
Help me speak up
He does not stand behind me
He does not have to
I can keep myself upright
My left is my weakest
My blindside, but I'm not worried
Guard my side with the shield
Fight with me
He does not walk in front of me
But sits beside me on the bus
He leans against me like his kin
New destinations are my oldest friend
The road less traveled is familliar
I start everything with my right
He'll guide me home either way
I'm okay, I'll always be okay
I know from such a simple thing
My gods stand beside me
- And at my altar, they are arranged that way. War sits at my left, Trickery is at my right. The gods I pray to are proud of me. My gods don't let me walk alone.
