Monday, April 30, 2007

The hof mistress gave to me a phial
Of that dread opiate that others deny,
To dream-gates opening upon crashing seas
Of acherontic vapors - mile on mile
Stretched ebony coasts untrod wherefrom aspire
Pylons of rough unhewn stone climbing ever higher.
Not of Midgard these monstrous constellations, where arise
Grey mottled moons of cold and outcast fire.
My dreamself roams these Ginnungagap gulfs,
Past troll haunted caves, where in dripping deeps
Of fearful dreams buried underneath
Do Jotun wives deeply sleep.
I see what sends others screaming away
For my doom was woven far into this past,
So that I return, at last, to where Hel resides at last.

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