The Royal Order of Silly Hats
Quartz Peak Riddle
If chasm depths you seek, then heed these words:
The way is not guarded, locked, or interred.
In statue’s arms, each at the proper height
Display the orbs to prove you have the right:
The lady kneels within a golden field:
Holds the horn of plenty, the harvest’s yield.
All alone in her cradle, the child peeks,
Her bed is bones, her milk of graveyard reeks.
It coils and writhes and laden branches shake:
Only twitching tail warns you of the snake.
The stag is pensive, a druid’s close friend,
Bright, the night sky, its horns raised to defend.
The mourning woodsman holds his head in hand.
Can a broken axehead truly break a man?