Rock-standing, sea-ringed,
reckless-nerved, reliant on none.
No borrowed courage. Only his own.

The níðingr is the other name-
coward-soft, craven in bearing.
Two faces of one failure.

Death-easy they took for granted.
The harder ask: self-command.
Fair-minded, honor-bound,
doing right when only the gods watch.

Danger does not break him.
Life and limb are the smaller stakes.
What breaks him is the deed
that cannot stand beside his name.
He does not flinch at death.

He flinches at shame.
a skaldic poem by Dustin Landers