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Old Gods

The fog hovers

From the crowns of the pines

and the snow blows past

scouring the land

 

The howling wind arcs

around the sparse summit

as the pale, pastel sun shines

giving little warmth

 

From his mighty horse

Odin looks down the valley

wrapped amongst his red cloak.

He awaits the day

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t
Written by
tam-robbie
Scottish
Published
Dec 27, 2010
Lines·Words
12·52
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