Posted on October 31, 2021, 10:46:30 AM by Jubal
Riddles on a Cold Moon
It's the time of year for moonbeams and shadows in the dark, the dying of summer plants and the turning of the seasons: a time for warlocks and silvery ghosts, the wakened dead and unhallows all. Yes, it's All Hallows' Eve, and so here's a special set of autumnal or dark themed riddles for you to try out. All of these were written specially for the season this week, and it's up to you to puzzle out the answers - if you dare, that is...
‘Twas you stole my unborn, you who slashed me apart,
And you too must be blamed for my burning heart.
Though you strive by my start iron and water to bend,
Your brother and mother will meet my end.
I once took gold from powers on high,
But lost my purpose when night drew nigh,
I’m often torn from gnarled, hard limbs,
And teeth rip at me on beasts’ dark whims,
Til’ when nights turn to deathly cold,
I fall: I turn to dust and gold.
I protect all that’s you, be you peasant or earl,
Be you bard who would raise me to speak of a girl,
Unless I am naked, to name me is rare,
And when I am naked, no name comes from there,
So I wonder the reason for your unease?
I’m a mere memento, plus, that which sees.
Legs needed I none to give wisdom’s euphoria,
But I’ve four if you find my home under Victoria,
I’m in the precise things you needed to know,
I’m done unto eggs: say my name, and I’ll show,
And if you’re now stumped, if there’s aught you require:
Let’s make a deal – I know you’ve what I desire.
Those said to be like me may wheedle and flatter,
But my biggest lie – it’s not me holed in batter.
Though my cousins found fame on the Owl-queen’s town’s stage,
And dropped on two crowns through a sky-threatened rage,
I’ve not got their complexion, but I’m doing just fine,
So if you stayed in check, then I’ll be at the line.
They made me from that which was dead,
They bound my fingers to make my head,
My namesake’s robed in gold and green:
But I grasp dirt they don’t want seen.
And I am grasped in turn, and rise,
By these unhallowed hands and thighs,
My head, from dust, thus seeks the skies.
These tired rivers now flow blue,
They say, for kings, they always do,
But not for you and I, my friend:
The proof can come from blades that rend,
Though they sound much like preening pride,
You need these rivers, deep inside.
Hope you enjoyed these riddles! Feel free to comment answers, ideally in spoiler tags, below. If you enjoyed this riddle set, do check out our regular riddle thread for the latest unsolved puzzle there! Stay scary, and have a suitably happy, or horrifying, Hallowe'en!