they came to me, asked my name.
i said then wait, let's play a game.
everyone got quite intrigued,
i wondered if any believed.
the rules are plain, straight and simple,
this is somehow a fuzzy, big riddle.
"would you give us the puzzle already?
we are waiting still and steady!"
i could only stall so much,
then i remembered the story of the dutch.
he was ten feet tall, named thor,
people often wondered if he'd fit the door.
had a big brown axe he used to cut wood
and a kind of language no one understood.
a heart that's been faithful, true and kind,
but impure thoughts are all over his mind.
"so tell us how he ever came to be!"
i said "sit back, relax and you'll see."
when thor was a baby, a long time ago,
his mother would put on a very special show,
his father would lift him up really high
and baby would joyfully move the clouds in the sky.
for he is the guardian of the bluest light,
to face death on the rightest fight.
"is he the warm touch of the mighty sun?"
"let me finish already, shut up everyone!"
if you've ever been wronged, don't hesitate to say
"oh brave thor, wouldn't you painfully make them pay?"
if you are good, he will hastily oblige
and present you with a most startling mirage.
for even if it was all in your head,
all your biggest fears are now but dead.
so if you ever feel down, sad and blue
just call his name and he'll be there for you.
they went home with wonder in their eyes
and i rested alone without names and goodbyes.