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THROUGH THE THICK HAZE I SEE HER FORM, LIKE A GHOST OF LONG FORGOTTEN LORE.
THE HAUNTING CALL OF NIGHT SPEAKS COLD BETRAYAL'S, LOST IN DARKNESS FOR EVERMORE.
THE MIST OF DREAMING SWEET ILLUSION, A BLEEDING HEART FINDS NO RESPITE.
I WHISPER TO LOST LOVE AND COLD WINTER FROST, OF FIRE BURNING BLACK AS COAL.
LIFELESS WALKING BONES OF PAST CRIMES AND CONVICTIONS, FOR A LIFE AGE ONE CAN SEEK IT.
DAWN BRINGS NO LIGHT IN THE MIST ALL HOPE IS LOST, THE HUNTERS MOON BRINGS A COLD ECHO OF THE BLACK HOODED RIDER.
THE REAPER OF SORROW, THE END OF ALL JOY, FOR ALL WHO DWELL HERE ARE THE DEAD.
THE DARK RIDER.Part 1: The Battle in the woods.
The cool air sent a chill down Leeranna's spine, her hood and cloak where soaked with sweat and tears. In all of her five years of life she had never been so afraid. She held the armored waist of the knight who had found her lost in the woods, wandering in tears for the lost path back to her hearth and home. But now they galloped furiously through the trees and across the meadows. For the dark rider was coming. Lerranna was afraid to look back, but could not help her self she felt she had to know if the rider was close. She gazed over her shoulder and let out a breathless gasp.
For the rider was indeed close,she could clearly see him now he was nearly formless, a dark figure that seemed to be covered in shadows streaked with thick black smoke. He sat upon a a horse that was black as pitch, it's eyes black obsidians swirling in hell fire. In his left hand he held a staff of unknown wood, carved to a sharp point at it's base, at the head it was thic
ETERNAL LOVER BORNTHE RAPED PULSATION OF THE VAIN DRAWS ME TO YOU, WITH A KISS WHICH BRINGS DEATH, AND ETERNAL LIFE.
LIKE DARK BRANDY BUT SWEETER STILL, INTRIGUE DRAWS YOU TO ME, A SLIGHT FEAR QUICKENS YOUR HEART.
THE BLOOD STAINED IVORY BARING NEW DARKNESS, FREE FROM THE COLD OF NIGHT.
SLEEP NOW MY LOVE AS FLIGHTS OF ANGELS FILL YOUR DREAMS.
WHEN YOU AWAKEN WE SHALL FEED, WITH OUT SICKNESS,DEATH, OR AGE.
AS IMMORTAL LOVERS, AS STALKERS OF THE NIGHT.
FOREVER AND FOREVER.
TOGETHER AS ONE.
A PRAYER TO THE GODDESS LUNA.OUR DEVIN LADY OF THE MOON.
CAST YOUR HEALING HAND UPON ME WITH SILVER LIGHT.
BRING STILLNESS TO MY WEARY HEART.
GRANT ME YOUR WISDOM.
FOR I AM LOST IN SHADOWS OF CONFUSION AND MALCONTENT.
MAY YOUR LIGHT GUIDE ME.
LET YOUR JEWEL OF THE NIGHT BRING ME PEACE IN A TROUBLED TIME.
LEAVE ME NOT IN SHADOWS.
LET NOT YOUR WATCHFUL EYE ECLIPSE FORM ME.
GRANT ME YOUR BLESSING, SO THAT I MAY BLESS OTHERS IN YOUR NAME.
I BEG OF YOU OH DEVIN LADY OF THE MOON, REMEMBER THE PROMISE TO ALL MORTAL KIND.
TO SHINE DOWN ON US FOR ETERNITY.
STARING NOW IN TO DARK COLD OBLIVION I SEE NOTHINGNESS, THE SHADOW OF A LONG AND WRETCHED LIFE STANDS BEFORE ME NOW. THERE IS NO SALVATION, NO WARMTH OF THE LIGHT.
I WILL BURY MY HEART IN A NAMELESS GRAVE, FOR THE DEAD BURY THE DEAD, NOW AND FOREVER. THE CURSE OF BETRAYAL HAUNTS ME, THERE IS NO REST FOR THE WICKED.
A THOUSAND UPON THOUSANDS OF PAST CRIMES AND CURSES FILL MY MEMORIES, A COLD HEART WITH OUT FEELING CAST DARK SHADOWS ON MY SOUL.
TO BE CURSED, DAMNED FOR ONE FINAL SIN, THE HORRENDOUS CRIME OF WHICH I DESERVE NO FORGIVENESS. NO REPRIEVE.
BOUND IN CHAINS OF MY OWN CREATION, WEIGHTED DOWN BY GUILT OF THE PAIN I SPREAD TO THOSE I LOVE, AND CAST IN TO A LAKE OF FIRE AND DAMNATION, FOREVER AND FOR ALWAYS.
A DECREPIT SOUL, STAINED WITH THE INNOCENT BLOOD OF THOSE WHO HAVE TRIED TO SAVE ME FROM MY SELF.
UNFORGIVEN, LOST, DAMNED.
OUTCAST ANGELI HAVE TORN OFF MY WHITE FEATHERED WINGS, TO CLOTH OTHERS IN WARMTH.
I SOLD MY GOLDEN HALO TO FEED THE ABANDONED.
YET I LAY BROKEN A SLAVE TO THE CRUEL NATURE OF A DARK WORLD.
A SILENT VOICE BEGGING TO CRY OUT IN TO THE DARKNESS.
A CRY UNHEEDED BY THOSE IN WHOM I TRUSTED AT A TIME MOST DIRE.
I HAVE TREAD THE PATH WITH ANGELS, BUT NOW I STAND ALONE.
A MERE SHADOW OF THE HOPELESS, IN THE DARK FOREVER.
A Poor Man's MealFather Odin and Lady Frigga,
please join me by my fire.
I've made a blessed meal for all,
to deny you two would be dire.
I ask that you accept my gift,
my thanks for all you've done;
so that you'll continue true,
until the Ragnarok does come.
I have only the best to offer,
what I could gather and afford.
But my message, gift, is as strong as others,
just missing fancy napkins and cords.
A poor man's offering,
what he can always spare.
Make another spot at the table,
so its far less bare.
I hope you'll join me
this lonesome night,
as I now share
this simple rite.
Bless me as I walk AloneOden bless me as I walk alone
Beaten down with stick and stone
And though I'm bound to this rough road
I still give praise for all I've known
Every day, new lessons grow
Mostly reaping what I sow
You've taught me all of this, I know
And onwards on this path I'll go
Though I stumble, and I fall
I rise through challenge, above all
Never caving, standing tall
Knowing I'll go to Valhall
Many folks don't share my views
Some think they are just old news
Still more think I'm a bit loose
But I know, I know the truth
This is my path as a skald
Though it empty seem and cold
It leads to glorious verse and song
I know you're with me, all along.
The Warriors of OdinBorn on the mountains of the north
Those covered by the frozen water
The chiling winds of winter embraced us
Its cold arms hugged our frail bodies
Before our mothers
Gave us the warmth we wanted
Before birth our fate had been decided
To become warriors of Odin the Almighty
And with our birth
The first step to become His best
Had been taken
Our childhood nothing but farming
No rest, no complaining, little food as reward
Our games and plays teaching us
The Art of War
Our struggle of survival
During the times of the merciless cold
Just another test
Of our worth
Harden our bodies and minds
For the future
As warriors of Odin the Almighty
Adults we're now
The few who survived
The harsh childhood
Slipped through the fingers
of the cold death
Grown to the finest
Among Odin's creations
Our bodies and spirits
Ready to prove to the Almighty
Our loyalty and courage
Ready to join His side
Our swords, shields, helmets and axes
Loaded onboard our ships
The Sea Dragons
Ready for t
The Runal Verses, Part OneFehu
Wealth is in the eye of the beholder
Those that hoard and those with greed
Sow discord like wheat, in equal,
And blown like chaff.
The cattle are driven across the river
The jealous wait to steal their share
Wealth is in the eye of the patient,
Though the patient are not always kind.
Charity begets a heart of gold
Wealth is in the eye of subjectivity,
For the wealth of goods does not always equal
The wealth of heart and home.
The aurochs drink from the waters of life
And we hunt the auroch to ensure our lives
Water and cow go hand in hand
Both come in rivers: one of clear, one of milk.
Between the horns of cattle,
I see the visage of Auðumbla
Four rivers of power flow in four directions
I drink, and regain my strength.
Rain is falling again,
Turning from sleet and hail to hail and snow;
It always returns as a rain,
And with it comes the riding of Þórr.
I dare to walk through the Ironwood
The giantesses and wolves
The Birth and Death of Mankind
The Birth and Death of Mankind
Warmth they had not, with wooden flesh as cold as stone.
A soul did not fill them, sacred örlög for them was unknown.
Their bodies were stiff and vegetative, not any different than a tree.
They stood on the shores of Miðgarðr, powerless until there came three.
Lifting them up, Óðinn, Hnir, and Lóðurr changed the trees into the form of mankind.
With önd, Wralda-Óðinn blessed us with breath and life, and us to him he did bind.
Hnir gave us óðr, which is conscious thought and movement, a swift body and a clever mind.
Lóðurr granted lá with læti and litr goða, which are form, speech, hearing and sight, in kind.
Newly born, the man named Askr and woman named Embla were embarrassed of their bareness.
Seeing their state, Óðinn gave them his own clothes, their looks bordering to greatness.
Behind Ymir's eyebrows in Miðgarðr, man and woman
Máni's course, plagued by Hati, streaks across the starry, night sky.
His glow touches the houses, Ymir's bones, and kisses burial mounds and runestones.
Legends tell that the dead have more power when Sól rests her glowing, beautiful head.
As such, a traveller rists and weaves rúnar, to hear the doom of his beloved son.
Drawn from the chilling land of death, an ancient seer awakens unwillingly.
"Answer me, völr, for you know all things then, now, and to come!" the man demands.
The wise woman groans, her death rattle audible with every labored breath.
"Your son will die, and Urđr will clasp him in her pale, Jötunn arms."
With a tired groan, she began to descend, but the Málrúnar beckoned her to stay.
"Völr, tell me more! Who will kill my dear son, most beloved among all creation?"
Sighing, the pale shade glared at the tall man, whose long beard fell to his chest.
"His dear brother, ever full of emotion, will be tricked into launching the most dire arrow."
Again descending, the ancient
Prayer to Odin from experienceAl-father Odin! You who hung for 9 days and suffered on the tree of Yggdrasil.
In so you received and gave us the runes and its mysteries.
You who have given up an eye to see and know beyond sight and knowledge.
Allow me to be strong through my own sacrifice and suffering.
So that one day, I can achieve great wisdom through what has happened to me.
Allow my mind to open and to focus on what i must do.
One day, I cannot always criticize what is before me.
From experience, I was angry and put down a faith that i knew was untrue.
Though you may have smacked me upside the head a few times
for my foolishness and ignorance. But I did deserve it and you were showing me something.
Telling me to wake up.
For I hope in one day to achieve the wisdom and wit to help me on my way and to think what i must think about
The Making of Midgard
The Making of Miðgarðr
To the South was the burning land of Utgarðr,
Where no travellers could go, for all is aflame.
Sparks flew to the North, though not much farther,
For the cold nulled their might, luke-warm the air became.
To the North was Niflheimr, that misty place,
With rivers that ran venomously, and formed Rime in their path.
As it flowed further South, it melted at an alarming pace,
And, meeting the warmth, life was the glorious aftermath.
Ginnungagap, location of Mimisbrunnr, was mild and warm,
The poisonous Rime sprayed forth, and froze on the earth quite solidly.
Life emerged with fiery force, a Jötunn man took form,
His name was Ymir, and he did not live life stolidly.
From under the arms of the great Hrimþurs, sweat beget two,
Man and woman, one named Bestla, the other Mimir.
A curious happening also took place, for his feet beget too,
the foot-child had three heads, and the name of Þrúðgelmir.
With the dripping of Rime, Auðhu
The Valkyrie Brynhild's Fate.Oh of the wises you were
you were favored by Odin
how he did prize you.
But now your fate
shall weave a new path
of your doom to be.
An on this path
shall make you belong to another
the daring young hero Agnar.
Doomed are you Brynhild,
for you have enraged Odin
never again shall you walk upon Asgard.
And now the Norns begin to spin
the threads of your mortal destiny.
Sorrow grips dear Odin
as the wises of Valkyries
shall never be among his halls in Valhalla.
And as your fate continues to weave this path
Odin bows his head before you
But you anger of his bitter use
of the mortal warriors
And you turn the all father away,
Asking only of the strongest and fearless
of mortal men
shall claim you as his wife.
your fate has woven to it's last strand
as Odin stabs your flesh
with the thorn of the Tree of Sleep
and carries you off
to the mountain Hindfell
through the wall of flames.
And dear Brynhild
WAR HAMMERWAR HAMMER.
HAIL THE THUNDER GOD, WHO STABS THE SKY WITH THUNDEROUS FURY.
HAIL THE VALKYRIES WHO CARRY THE BRAVE AND HONORED DEAD TO THE HALL'S OF VALHALLA.
AS THE GIANT'S OF THE NORTH SEEK TO BRING DOWN THE WALLS OF ASGARD,
WE STAND AMONG THE GODS READY TO CAST DOWN OUR ENEMIES. WE ARE FEARLESS, WE ARE THE WAR HAMMER.
AS THE FIRES OF RAGNAROK BURN IN OUR HEART'S, WE SING THE BATTLE CRY. THE BLOOD OF THE ALL FATHER COURSES THROUGH US LIKE A WELL SPRING.
WAVES OF ENEMIES CRASH AGAINST OUR MIGHTY SHIELDS, AND FALL BY OUR SWORDS. WE FIGHT FOR OUR GODS, FOR OUR HONOR. AND TO LIVE AGAIN FOR ONE LAST BATTLE.
WE AWAIT THE CALL, WE AWAIT THE FALL OF THE WAR HAMMER.
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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