A Eulogy for Beowulf
Eulogy to Beowulf
A great man has died. And his name is Beowulf, our king, and a very close friend of mine. Beowulf was a brave man, the bravest of us all. A generous soul, that cared for others. A man whose fury and glory no man could ever match.
He did many things that we could not imagine of achieving. From the terror of the ferocious Grendel, he freed this very land. Freed us from the pain and suffering the monster had brought us. But his heroic endeavor did not stop there. For the ferocious monster must have had a bearer. And a bearer it had, the beast’s mother, Grendel’s mother. A lot stronger and brutal than its offspring yet our mighty Beowulf stood still and conquered the creature. And from then on, we could again dance merrily for we know he is there to protect us. His greatness reached to the ends of the world. Many came seeking to be part of it by slaying the mighty Geat, yet all of them failed. For our King was unmatchable.
And here comes this huge winged beast, who breathes fire from its mouth; bringing the half of the kingdom down to ashes. A dragon has come to challenge our might of our hero. And as per the norm, despite his old age, our King accepts. He puts on his sword and armor once more, and combats the beast. Our king struggled for the beast had the upper hand. But we all know that a dragon is no match for the mighty Beowulf. Our king slits the dragon’s left wing holding its flight to lower grounds. Once our hero successfully placed himself into position, he cuts through the dragon’s skin and reaches for its heart. The dragon wriggled and fought but he was overpowered by our mighty Beowulf. He grabs a hold of the dragon’s heart and rips it from its body. The dragon completely falls down to the ground, dead, but leaving our hero poisoned to death. And here we are, mourning. But is that what our king would really want? I believe that if he were to attend his own burial, he would not want us to mourn, but to rejoice instead. For he died
A great man has died. And his name is Beowulf, our king, and a very close friend of mine. Beowulf was a brave man, the bravest of us all. A generous soul, that cared for others. A man whose fury and glory no man could ever match.
He did many things that we could not imagine of achieving. From the terror of the ferocious Grendel, he freed this very land. Freed us from the pain and suffering the monster had brought us. But his heroic endeavor did not stop there. For the ferocious monster must have had a bearer. And a bearer it had, the beast’s mother, Grendel’s mother. A lot stronger and brutal than its offspring yet our mighty Beowulf stood still and conquered the creature. And from then on, we could again dance merrily for we know he is there to protect us. His greatness reached to the ends of the world. Many came seeking to be part of it by slaying the mighty Geat, yet all of them failed. For our King was unmatchable.
And here comes this huge winged beast, who breathes fire from its mouth; bringing the half of the kingdom down to ashes. A dragon has come to challenge our might of our hero. And as per the norm, despite his old age, our King accepts. He puts on his sword and armor once more, and combats the beast. Our king struggled for the beast had the upper hand. But we all know that a dragon is no match for the mighty Beowulf. Our king slits the dragon’s left wing holding its flight to lower grounds. Once our hero successfully placed himself into position, he cuts through the dragon’s skin and reaches for its heart. The dragon wriggled and fought but he was overpowered by our mighty Beowulf. He grabs a hold of the dragon’s heart and rips it from its body. The dragon completely falls down to the ground, dead, but leaving our hero poisoned to death. And here we are, mourning. But is that what our king would really want? I believe that if he were to attend his own burial, he would not want us to mourn, but to rejoice instead. For he died