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Chris Jul 15
I fell asleep on ocean shore,
Sharp rocks as my bed,
I don't feel them anymore,
I don't feel cold I must be dead.

The sky split clouds of eden's door,
The stars shine as my eyes,
I lay low strecthed on the floor,
With the silence deep inside.

As the heavens keep on burning,
The machines of men are turning.

Valhalla, how I waited to arrive!
Your ravens and your anger,
Were always in my mind!
Valhalla, realm beyond the world of known,
I am among the dead, I am among my own!

I fell asleep on dragon's tail,
With arrows in my side,
The last of them already sailed,
Leave my lying with a smile.

The rain washes the salty air,
And through tears wind blows,
My fingers ran through golden hair,
Valkyrie please fly me home.

As the world just keeps on turning,
And the human hate is burning.

Valhalla, how I waited for your light!
Your splendor and salvation,
Father Odin in his right!
Valhalla, land of gods, for evermore,
I found my peace in your everlasting war!
Check my *** out on YT :
  I hope I don't rest in peace, that I think would be the dullest, most boring death/afterlifeof all possible or impossible afterlives.
Riding through the night on my three legged horse
Green light dancing in the land of the Norse
One eye closed and one wise open
Runewise led and mantras spoken

Over hills and through the valleys
Charting the stars and keeping a tally
On to the daybreak, on through the night
Down through the lowlands, up to the heights

Down through the ages, since the beginning of time
Delivering apples to redress a crime
Left brain and right brain, one yin and yang
Back to the oneness of how it began

Molecular biology, two snakes entwined
One-eyed kings in the land of the blind
Remember tomorrow and foretell the past
What was in the beginning shall be in the last
Graff1980 Mar 4
Old one-eyed jack,
old all father
dressed in
****** black,
walking down
a windy path
while Fenris
nibbles on his chains
and the Midgard serpent
goes on searching
the tree of life
for something
like an apple
to sink his fangs

Slipperier than
all his other
trickster friends
doesn’t make amends
just contends
with puckish trends
acting like a nave,
a slave
to playful

And all those
valiant Valkyrie,
well I would concede
going to the halls
to drinks some mead
but I am not a warrior
just a very bad bard.
Herald of the sacred keep
Thunder in his gilded hand
Stirring all the souls who weep
Into realms of floating sand
Mitch Prax Feb 24
Viking cats live
in such magnificent ways,
and he was no different-
Valhalla awaits him.
Blade Maiden Sep 2018
Helheim isn't a place
its fires only burn inside one's head
a dark and roaring space
a tomb for the dead

Dead cogitations
pitiful victims
of a mind's limitations
and shallow benedictums

There I dwell
dark imagination
an endless pit, a bottomless well
darker still the manifestation

Thoughts shrouded in mist
Hela is waiting
by the great shadow I am kissed
and all is fading

I get lost, I don't protest
deep inside this maze
by this darkness I will be blessed
and find comfort in this haze
Bragi Sep 2018
Like a hammer that’s too short.
Like a wall that feels lacking.
Like a land of giants, vanished.
Like a god among gods who aren’t your own.
Perfect in an imperfect world or

imperfect in a perfect world;
your imperfection shown.

Yggdrasil overgrown and all the options leave you empty.
At first nine worlds seem plenty
but soon you hope for twenty,
finding no treasures tempting.
Your desires in the waters 

of three holy wells reflecting
a thing that seems calm and collected:
an ending to the ending;
soft but not,

like a pillow made of rock,
you rest your head upon
the thought of Ragnarök.
When the Earth made you, she flecked your skin with seeds,
Tossing handfuls of black soil all across your shoulders
And sowing in your body the strength to thrive.
Your hair grew like man’s first fire,
Red and thrashing like a fish in the sea,
The sea where, now and then, your mother feeds you the flesh
Of the scorched men whose ships fear your fanned red skies
And find their burial mounds in the deepest sands
          under the flash of your light;
Men who feel your firm black soil again at the doors of your hall
And make themselves full with food and drink
And Hellos to friends so long and fervently missed.
This poem is praise for the god commonly known as Thor, and it is written in "Galdralag" (lit. "the meter of magic spells), which harkens back to the cultural magic of the Ancient Germanic and Norse peoples.
I know that I hung on a windy tree,


Nine long nights.

Hanukkah, Christmas, Saturnalia

Wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,


Myself to myself...

Abandoned by God

On that tree of which no man knows

The Tree of Knowledge

from where it's roots run.

Laws by mankind

No bread did they give me nor drink from a horn,

Suffering, no mercy

I arose with the Word,


and came back down to them.

This is an ancient Celtic poem. No author is cited.  It sounds like the, "son," of God(Odin) lamenting whom in Celtic fair should be the character known as Esus. He is depicted in stone as being a carpenter surrounded by animals. The spear of Longinus from, "Odin," represents the lineage of Kings and their judgement. Odin means, "Father," and God as all earthly Kings descended in spirit from God into their human forms.
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