Crimson fog fakes an orgasm with the black skyline in the distance.

The lurching spasms progress into pillow talk.

An acid bath greets the populace coming home that evening.

Egos spin between with winged serpents flying overhead,

swimming in ragged rivulets of flame that inter-spear the fog.

With staccato thrums of soot and heat; stretching Hephastus -

soon to smelt Mjollnir.

Odin’s side desire for mortal immortality,

The essence dance with She,

He partakes,

A Son is given light.

Hung by his spear

To the world tree he bleeds,

poetry and wisdom,

through nine days instead.

He learned of the runes

and the songs that would lead,

Humankind’s imagination,

To skies un-tethered, sans reality

To realms of nine

seen by the blind

and cyclopean eyes.

Unto us the rage is born,

protector of the weak and innocent.

Given to He is strength unbound,

made twice and again by Megingjard.

Hand to hammer wed,

duty unto death,

The hero’s path.

Walk alight,

the lightning ride,

on goats astride -

steel chariot.

As the Jormungand coils the worlds unto itself head to tail,

tail to head an infinite loop, doubled,

It wakes for Ragnarok.

For what is infinity doubled

but doubt redoubled unto itself?

Swift to strike –

a poison bite.

Quicker still -

the judgment steel.

Mercurial herald of forgiveness.

Hammer judges doubt time and again,

A mangled mess remains,

With bloodied maw,

And dreams of malice -

from Midgard Serpent,

holding the chalice,

It strikes again, to poison him.

Valhalla barren,

The Son returns.

On the final day of imagination,

no longer time,

run out of mind.

Have we soon to forget existence,

was ever tied to earth and stone?

- far we have flown;

to become these old yellowed bones -

Waiting.

Ezequiel and She take notice one day, as the earth spins.

Ragnorok’s knell and din,

now spread thin,

a memory;

forgotten, save by the bones now littering the valley.

Where solace they’ll have none,

Prophet of She, now comes

to see what he needs shown,

to grow what now needs sown.

Belief, Faith and Trust -

know that I Am and hear me roar.

Lion of Zion, Serpent overthrown,

coiled reptilian wreaths

Fall free and be trod underfoot by me,

the new creation – Gestates

and Creates!

By flesh to bone now jaded,

Souls called back in native tongue,

Sinew of ceremony binds,

to bone and muscle wed,

and life pronounced to live as one -

sure to see the rising sun.

Witness the union that none will ever

tear asunder. 

Prophet of He speak to the wind that it may listen -

to calls he bade

be made

to the four corners –

and breathe Life into shells of flesh,

again to rise and remember.

Fortune smiled,

and hope recovered in a box,

Fury gone;

Life’s protector missing.

Strength abounds from hammer still,

Belt to wait, The seeker’s thrill

of home and harmony.

Will one soon come to lift Mjollnir?