There's a deafning silence in this place
One which creeps like death as frost permeates the landscape
Freezing nothern gales redifine my knowledge of pain
As roots are assaulted with upheaval, the forest whispers my name
The wailing stars up above, and sleeping stones below
In this land of agony ruled by tyrants of snow
Sorrow unending, crests with the moon
A revelry of grief, a portent of doom
The howls of wolves cut through the air like a knives
Grim reminders of our past and better lives
Only a war-torn remainder, plagued with a bloodsoaked mirth
Testament to when heathens ruled the earth
Ravens circle overhead in the blood red sky
Awaiting spiritual carrion as our souls slowly die
There is no golden radiance here
The sun finds no place, only hides in fear
Amongst the pillars we are relinquished
Before a pantheon of oak and birch
Where on thrones of fire, gods perch
Lightening strikes not once, but twice
Honoring us in our glorious fight
To the realm of spirits we ride
One by one swelling with pride
To see our ancestors again
We never in life, feared the end
The constellations call us home
And so we depart, leaving only our bones
Among the sleeping stones and blackened oak
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
There's a deafning silence in this place
One which creeps like death as frost permeates the landscape
Freezing nothern gales redifine my knowledge of pain
As roots are assaulted with upheaval, the forest whispers my name
The wailing stars up above, and sleeping stones below
In this land of agony ruled by tyrants of snow
Sorrow unending, crests with the moon
A revelry of grief, a portent of doom
The howls of wolves cut through the air like a knives
Grim reminders of our past and better lives
Only a war-torn remainder, plagued with a bloodsoaked mirth
Testament to when heathens ruled the earth
Ravens circle overhead in the blood red sky
Awaiting spiritual carrion as our souls slowly die
There is no golden radiance here
The sun finds no place, only hides in fear
Amongst the pillars we are relinquished
Before a pantheon of oak and birch
Where on thrones of fire, gods perch
Lightening strikes not once, but twice
Honoring us in our glorious fight
To the realm of spirits we ride
One by one swelling with pride
To see our ancestors again
We never in life, feared the end
The constellations call us home
And so we depart, leaving only our bones
Among the sleeping stones and blackened oak
Request permission to use this poem