SIGFRIDSSON

1 SIGFRIDSSON
1 SIGFRIDSS
HUNTED

HUNTED

HUNTED

IN

IN

IN

INVIOLABLE

INVIOLABLE

INVIOLABLE

BLOOD

BLOOD

BLOOD

GOTSALA 46

GOTSALA 46

GOTSALA 46

PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON
PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON
PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSO

ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON
ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON
ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSS

78-91-979005-6-0

TED EDITION

ISBN
ISBN
978-91-979005-7-7
978-91-979005-6-0
PRINTED
E-BOOK
EDITION

978-91-979005-6-0
ISBN 978-91-979005-7-7
PRINTED
EDITION
E-BOOK

ISBN 978-91-9

E-BOO

LIFE IN MIGHT!
COME WINDS! STORMS!
COME LIFE IN MIGHT! IN BLOOD FROM BLOOD!
COME TIME’S FORCE ― MIGHT OF ODIN!

THE GODS ARE LIFE’S AND DEATH’S RULES
ALWAYS PRESENT HERE AND SET ABOVE!

DENY THE FRIEND-ROTTEN LOATHSOME ALL WORDS!
HEAVE AWAY HIDDEN IN DREAM AND EARLY FOR NOTHING!
LET THE TRUTH MUTE ALL OF THE DIMNESS AND DOUBT!
VIET OWNS MIDGARD ALONE AND WED IN LIFE HERE!

THE WAR IS TEARING ― DRIVES FORWARD A FINAL REVENGE
AND BLOOD WETS THE BARK ― RUNS IN THE RIGHT TRACKS!

WE ENABLE HERE TRUTH, HONOUR AND RIGHT!
WE TAKE HOME LOVE, FREEDOM AND MIGHT!

THE LAW IS THAT WE SHALL BE WHAT WE ARE!
COME TIME’S FORCE ― MIGHT OF ODIN!
COME LIFE IN MIGHT! IN BLOOD FROM BLOOD!
COME WINDS! STORMS!

MORE THAN LOVE
Seldom do futile words about love take on a living,
but leave in defiance its new ruins everywhere.
Listen in here carefully now, sneerlife;
Wrong in the head means wrong in the eyes.
Right in nothing owns rights to nothing.
Shut thereafter kindly your slow snout.
Advice on advice writes a starving harvest
wording a wisdom stolen from nonsense
wherein tiresome words are endowed pity
so like raisins showing the full grape vine
We know all too well that been and had is nothing to be harvested,
so keep all your filthy, wry-legged and weakmoulded words
where all regretted “love” always takes its way home to be hated
Hear the laughter at your comparing of mutual infantilities to be sane
and find you thereafter that the will to your wrongs are missing here,
furthermore that more than love is not a mystery; The Name will remain.
Rip from its hold
that cleanest emotions have here too hard been used up,
that fairest scum keep creep in line before the foulest!
Rip from its hold that suffering and death stand All near!
Take to its hold
that Honour will outshine petty survival,
that only Truth does own us in real beauty!

INVIOLABLE
Poured in a few warming glances for sweetly rare memories
to carry away, pity gone by, to enclose this inviolable,
yet get to sense those wet summer meadows caress my legs,
to catch the calm wind close to the corner of this stable
Dreamed,
I am everywhere down here called a dreamed
A hidden,
inside indecisions; the seasons rake me in as gone
Glances of Life linger on to remain inside the bitter hurted
and to guest the old property as if this life still was alive,
as if an unknown mist hanged on to this very Life perished,
as would my life still remain in Life as my own life
(Coldly clear. A partly unhinged wooden gate creaks wind,
opened unto a forgotten yard whose remains can be sighted slightly.)
Leaned over wooden boxes filled up with potatoes and carrots,
smelling in filled bags with mealy apples in the foyer cold
which all lasted as long as Winter would hand its permission
(Frost stricken. The gravel path glimmers its fragile floes,
small stones set inside the frozen sand did glisten still.)
I am snared sorrow-wise, bilious, mild-eyed, fragile and lost
like the last apple shined witnessed left on its winter branch
sees this year’s harvest of autumn leaves beauty rolled in frost

I stand ended,
alone left unarmed against unreality’s gruesomeness

Sidling up to the charcoal kiln forgotten by the region
in thinking of friends’ swords drawn out from the field below

Underneath the darkness,
fresh laid snow mounds in a blue bleak winter night

Brewed afterglow:
Dead stars’ cries of regret in the night
beneath gleamingly lingering daybreaks remain ―
Unreachable

THE PATH TO LIFE
My life is small,
broken by the shattered
My life is great,
carried by the edified
Necessity and will sum jointed
to The Only Path to tread
where Truth Reigns and Wisdom Wins
Invoking Clarity Vision and the Path to Life!
MY FOLK ARE THE FOLK
MY LAND IS MIDGARD
Let here Viet’s will awake,
in our dawning birds chirp
while veiled tears run
without joining us to the bitter

ULTIMATUM
O!
You so easily bought, mightless and tarned,
trapped scabby with the loss of lust caught,
fully emptied of rights: Necessarily trashed!
You…
You! Forgotten remaining in a worn and fouled
You! Eyetiredly drowned in permanent quicksand
You tracelessly left to become helpless,
you filthy weak and meek, listen up a while!
Long enough has wished for been searched down in unwanted
while all illusions are being emptied of gladness
where false found thought-worthy qualm unthought thought
and exertedly spill its power on the pitiful needs
Only misanthropists can love what our world has become
while deprived and crushed promises been mortarized
for the weed itself has scuffled in thirst after our blood,
around, and down, at the poisoned well’s places
And few wish little more than to qualify as wretch…
It is me anyway so bitingly bitter to break
with ripped apart society’s broken
where the crippled and dizzy demand Life to crippled be
Hardly.

COLOUR OF LIFE
I am so gladly thrown in here
with the ability to see through air
Turning me into Wind and becoming 0% blind!
BARRIER DOWN! BARRIER DOWN!
REALITY! EXIST REALITY!
COME REALITY! REIGN!
TAKE ME! LEAD ME! FILL ME!
FLOW! FLOW! DRIP!
OCEANS! LANDS! SKIES!
FILL ME!

Birdsongs awake

Drinking of twilights

Something breathes in nearness,
realityborn, herein realitystrewn
One warrior mind of bluest skies
pouring in life’s most beautiful colours,
beyond all the conceived mind games,
past years of formed wolfmonths
SURVIVING! GIVING MEANING!
REGRET NOTHING! RISING OUT OF DUST!
SPEAK! SPEAKING AS THE NETTLES SPEAK!
USING CHOICE AND POUR IN LIFE’S COLOUR!

ON ROSECOVERED SNARES’ PATH
Weedbundles to catch
Nettles to eat
Blindfolds to carry
Walls to bury
Life to sort
In drunken swagger after slightest right to hold loved
sifts the funny farms steadily for what is most sane
while the scum lie absent-minded with a red apple in the mug
Un-astute unwieldy ― Wretched,
grubbing in exchangable Nothing,
turns around,
not unlike stinking and staring cows
And hardships little bread crumbs look good in darkness’ corner
meanwhile the very finest scum oink away to their babble songs
Retards demand to equal eachother to live furthest down
in clutching after cheap thought-jewelry and life-pettiness
Misgrowth is dug up ideals: Meaningless crass experiences
But, unclean will remain being Gladness’ most rare guests
Weedbundles to throw
Nettles to grow
Blinfolds to burn
Walls to build

Life to sort

DAGAZ
WILL
STRENGTH
KNOWLEDGE
MIGHT
HOLINESS
LOVE
Option and will’s contradicting Truths
became in growth compelling illusions,
to gain given for the strange twistings
that become feeblemoulded reactions:
Selfish need
Imagined hatred
Guessing’s drivel
Thievery’s fraud
Unreachableness’ theory
Emptiness’ survival strategy
It dawns to cry off the unclean time’s burden,
the counterfeit rights will be taken away
Life was brought here and given Viet to inherit
and one’s own will shall enriched be recalled
TIME TURNS TO LAID FRUITION!
LET THE WINE OF CLARITY FLOW!
COME GLADNESS! BE HERE! LIVE US!
COME INHERITED AND STRENGTHENED!
COME TO THE NEW DAWN!
RAISE YOURSELF FREEDOM!
STEP FORWARD GLADNESS!
BE MY LAWS!

LIGHT CAME!
THIS IS THE POWER TRUTH HAVE SEALED
THIS IS THE MIGHT OF THE HOLY RITE
SHOW YOURSELF
TRANSFORM YOURSELF
YOU ARE SOWED TO BE LOVED!
SOWING GROUND!
EMBRACING WIND!
CLIMBING OUT OF WINTER!
AWAKENING THE HOLDERS OF WORTHY BLOOD!
THIS IS A SHELTERING FOR THE ENCLOSURED
WITH THE FUTURE FREE FROM HOMELESSNESS!
THIS IS VIET GIVEN OUT FROM ITS HIDDEN,
BROUGHT TO ENNOBLEMENT OF THE TROTH!
WARRIORS LIVE THEIR GAIN WITH WISDOM
AND LET ALL FUTILE SLIP AND DEAD FALL!
TO THE SWORDS!
CAST THE WORLDS AWAY FROM ANGUISH!
LIFE HAS BEEN DRIVEN HERE FROM ITS HIGH,
TO HARD CHOSEN CHOICES WITHOUT CHOICE!
BEAR SHALL TEAR, WOLF BITE,
SNAKE STRIKE AND RAVEN RIP!
LIGHT CAME!
TURN AND WITHOUT REST WANDER HOME!

ALREADY THE FROSTBITES SEARCH
Stand surrounded mists on borderland grey
above returned, night hidden, molten leaves
(Broken off, fallen,
still these hardly missed lives
will arise with overturned spring ices)
The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens
Springtime travels inside, breaking its hidden deathbread,
while unhealed wounds rasps in my greyest hollowharvest
I was here, I was here,
I was here tied to an uninhabitable world of sorrow and meat
where bitterhard seed strewn for the ices to live as cast away,
and all too overnourished crap; All tenderness and reality is beat
The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens
And already before the moment the last autumnsigh awakes
the frostbites searches the paths to its final wintergatherings
so alike the summer flowers trade in their seats in the groves
before Time has found that Autumn plucked down all meadows
Can only dream to remember gladness here, be on wait,
be sighed through by all of these dawns and twilights,
knowing the withering’s terms, always unbefallen, await,
in beauty sent away from its beginning for blossomings
The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens

A LETTER FOR REVENGE
Was of a mind ― lingering,
in easily nested reasons
quartered an irretrievably empty room:
Waiting
The pulled; cards left me forced down and inconsolable,
rarely really good enough, left clinging hard and silenced
Placed there; the thorns filled the Path up to the Skies
and kept hidden for any pieces of mind or indifferences
Cutting in; my screams on the pitfall walls
and passing through labyrinths by never entering…
Writing home; to dear Truth
about the forgotten and tearing conditions of Life:

You insist that I grow alone and in heartlessness,
to infirmity calling out longing’s incurable reasons!
See here this understanding interpreter of his longing
that never feared that emotions could die away much more
acknowledging to have stopped within a wide open stare
and sadly emotions cannot be further blunted down any more
in the fouled languishing growing away into suffering
while effect readily collects its too simple excuses.
But,
wishing still to be offered just one decent tomorrow
that down here refuses to gnaw the already clarified.
Everything is so dumb…
that only with words can it be considered wisdom.

TRUTH’S MERCY
You, you so roseborn and luminous,
in guise and lifted into nothingness,
out of fear blunted blind and bound,
selling grief all its laughable advices
You, you lie springless and inconsolable,
in famine outside of Truth’s Mercy
This is tragic
It is the broken’s tears
This is freedom
in a world of dross
You weathered down call yourself perfect
while life’s dumb illusions become wills
and thoughts shape more dumbness
to explain reasons for all dumbness
Waivers of the only raised above
are tolerating vexed ridiculous ideals,
defined out from futilities’ stomachs
and will be found where miseries hunt
For while all High is praised
you love with what is spoiled
Ends
scraped forth
in suffering
where naught was
and soon forgotten
in turned sight’s snaring deeds
Warming this powerless pathfinder
which should loathe suffering’s might
before he here infected will self-starve
outside the existence of Truth’s mercy

THE EMPTY LINE
Have in winterworn loathing tearthought,
enclosed around a dying man’s clothes
stuck as frozen resin in the trunk’s bark
Have laid winterlight in nightcovered whirling snow,
becoming a strange cloudcarrier, clarity’s riddle,
leading extinctor of feigned life’s cloaked love
Have trapped been stuck an all too hardened living
where something untouched steadily stands strong
as an unspeakableness; to always be denied rotting
An empty line takes infirm spurns into nothing.

Have washed in the thought-vein and grabbed hold of clarities,
mentioned the windtorn year’s maze, adorned sighing

Laying left a while ― A silenced and battered
only acknowledged by the seeing
Uninvited eels drink,
fattening on the wordsuffering in this last life
Destone me Life’s vein
Try now hurting what is dead.

FURTHEST OUT ON AN ISLET
Furthest out on an islet where the sea wets the rocks
stands the struggle to protect thoughts from observation
Darkened rests the Path ―  Darkened rests the eye

Burning the words.

Lifting my gaze,
beaten it drags down to stay

One friendfreed…
as weary glitter is useless

One lovefreed…
as polished glitter is ridiculous

Later on touching the dust fallen a deserted cabin floor,
in borrowed night camp, torn apart and embracing Nothing

Darkened rests the Gard ―  Darkened rests the woods

The War clutches.

Listening,
hear stillness wander over this forest lake
when sun-reflected moon gleams in the oars

Standing taken from lust, staggering,
in brightened summer night in front of inner shy thoughts

Pulling in my weights, threatening,
in darkened summer night where all Answers keep asking

Dragged into Life and marked again
Into clarity and mist poured

Hatred so strong that it refuses to take its hold;
to take feet on the shore down by the ten rivers

IN NIGHT FROST DRAUGHT
Hidden in my last winter abode came Death
like a frail and excusing crying mourner
and sat down in apprehension, in whisperance:

Searched here for Life itself to befriend,
in the wounded you, in your lone dying
We are a left, shadowfree storm,
holding our rugged words against darkness,
pressing the nights hours; teaching us coldness
(Was drawn here through the lands inside darkness
Dragged over all the time distances, stones and ices)
And cold has just my fairness in its word,
while emptiness,
has its emptiness stuck in the Weave

WINDSIDES
Living merely in my autumn leaves, watercourses and clouds,
like a kissed harvest pulled by longings silenced promises
and as unwillingly begged, hard nightflowered and teared
The forest sun-striated (Dreamed in Life’s Windsnare)
meanwhile the raining leaned in slowly, hesitent steps
(Watching melting, hectically dripping under springsun’s might)
In stonelee will soon the violets be placed harrowed here again
and then fade, shyly slouch, under the night-time’s journey
(Enough about that.)
Stepping up a daily route and got beautiful together with dawning
and when later the rain carefully fell asleep weary beside the dusking
down under raking forest tree tops underneath the greyspeckled skies
was springs-ground seen turning home to barrenly (and slowly) thaw drinking
Gazing miles wide around over the halfway snow stained mounds
where furrowed fields stood silent as frozen, stopped sea waves,
while the Winds hit, took headway from all four sides, then suddenly!:
At precisely the right time beams of the Sun broke in over the district
The springtender light lit carefully (Warmed the last years grass)
and little shadows flickered themselves quickly over creek and river

I have eye-caressed the pinebedded grounds fairest days
before nocturnal fog arose around tender forestshadows

Beneath rainpines’ dripping greeted my sight modest flowering,
together with the rain teared down with most broken branches

Indulgent crop on sweet forest ploughed strips, stay here.

THE CRACKS
Thinking myself taking oar strokes between the field islands hills
and sail by untouched;
in defenseless journey forward into a new dawn
Detained…
while the written clouds dense the sight
have gleamed-through wisdom been graveled and extinguished
Remaining in a missing future ― where memories rupture
*
Am in fragments to piece together
Threadthorned blinkers to throw off
A hidden away pathfinders aging heart
We or You,
forced to cuddle with suffering for its ugliness sake
We, have suffered enough,
streamed in the cleanest well
for others
Insufficiency has gifted more than enough
while Death bit by bit caught us marked for life
too long
Have traced the frustrations; the conditions itself,
setting in hearts a rope to snare the scab carriers
You know, was so heartstarved, forced to fair my eye,
overdose beauty in a torn down world
where animal life now is set as a goal to reach up to
You,
there must come in prettier days here soon
Speak.

FROM INSIDE A NIGHT STORM
Thorncut deathyears healed roving path’s too many times
while a riddling cure strewn in all the nuisance…
Grievance, told to be gone, listens deafstruck.

Lived all too costly for unloved, fouled and unwished,
and if that was enough or nothing does not make a difference
when unlived truly is to prefer;
as always near to is lower than Nothing

So puny became my life that shallow beauty is life
and finding me nothing more clearly to find herein
So grand is my life that the inner also is its surface
which find itself nothing more clear to leave herein

Death is closing in, so damn irreplaceable,
the obviously final unbreakable Chooser
is already here, immodaretely in love with all called ― Life

SIGR! FREOD! SUN!
You bind the birds
and strangle flowers
You poison chosen wells
and are felling care trees
You cut away Holiness,
burn Goodness
and spit in the bloods

Setting myself as well-guard.

Covering the naked Tree
with my wounded body
Setting life in grey blue skies
and turn the bark to the Sun
Painting the flowers’ colours ready
and make the stones come alive
My Önd scorns darkness
and gives Light its striations
So be my friend, you loved,
and give yourself grape stock
(The most beautiful to behold)
Bind meadow flowers
in a wreath around your head
(The most beautiful to be tied)
Give yourself as final well water,
holied and filled with might
(The cleanest that can be brought forth)
HEAR MY NAMES!
SIGR! FREOD! SUN!
WE ARE REAL!

DRAINED OF RIGHT
Thoughts are ruled in much by repelling revisionism
through all those exchanged identities revulsionism
Drained of all right forged traditions are now followed
where the Solstice ceremonies and its use been fouled

(All this while imagined feelings from fear’s simplicity
have become divisible tools to hold on as if high here.)

Fooled scream themselves great and thus all infect,
adding their largest stench mouths in their begging
and ridiculous ignorance as their powerful weapons
ejected against those poorly pledged pitiful minds
Contaminated are the choices for the life to choose
under degrading shapes separating bids,
and this live on coarsely, revolting, and nauseating;
all the while insanity’s raised barrier surrounds
Intelligence is perceived only by the intelligent
and Knowledge sought to cure erroneous behavior
even when faults are placed against wrong by parasites
So quelmed was here the strength without Time.
When Reality, here and now, regains its vision,
washes need off and recognizes the gladness stolen,
then carved be my remaining border to any doubt
My sword shall with might be soaked in every mind.
Wit and growth twisted!
Murder and humiliation secretively clouded!
Call your word found excuses
what you want and dare, scum!
Fated you will remain!

FROM RIPS AND STABS
Your dreams hold that we have blood blended
but untrue be old friendship you have scripted
Friend-worthy were you never to me
and my contempt is clearly understood.
Your behinds look so clean after they’ve been emptied
and smeared their feces over everything called high
Oaths given was in all dug out and hollow,
alike your quelming pornography’s falseness.
Knowing you know that here you have no rights or cause
in spite of this these surroundings are twisted and raped
in the aim to scorn, break down and murder our blood
while Viet is forced down to live as the used and denied.

I am sensing the eyes that read my thoughts written
while the traditions already are insected and undermined,
for through the deeds done scum find their greatness,
but drag mine to yours never will fall for being any alike.
The self-realization in that you call yourself flies pleases
and fully proven stands here this invincibility
Attempts to take names of the victorious become stolen words
which never are to come home to any Reality.
Contaminated nonsense will everywhere be taken away
and Viet can here bridgewander The Path to Life,
hereafter our kin/kindred and friends will meet
and awareness rist its gladness over the suffering.
Now leaf-prepared are the forests and inside the hearts
for our New Time have come back here to overtake
So, raise the gaze away from the old humility
and crave, fill lust for the next life, and this!
WE ARE HARDLY FOOLED THAT OTHER CHOICES EXIST!
WE SHALL LIVE ALL THAT WE CALL GOODNESS!

ALLBOT
In the Tree two ravens have waited long

They are seen greyed, withered, torn,
before the chain finally is ruptured
Crutch this.
Retrieving Life here
Letting Reality speak
Teaching Knowledge to reform
inside the Allright’s right over right
The gates have here been opened wide
and good use all honoured will own,
living brightly with Valhalla’s awareness
in the always present moment spring arrives
Standing under the mill’s bridges,
in the glades by the smiths,
at the stupas on sun caressed hills
and forcing love to be clean again
Drinking the Allseeing Samwater
of spring water and burning wood
Cutting sticks, solidifies the shape
where the core is SIGge FRIDulfSSON
Reincarnated to save this forthcoming time
to fall from straw death and honourless life
Count me four hundred steps of years in Time
and find yourself there the greatest of all Answers
I am a stranger nowhere
and Time is waited through me
STEERING TIME! OVERCOMING DOUBT!
RIST RIGHT AND RIST SIGR, RIST FREOD,
RIST SUN TO THE FUTURE!

TAKEN YEARS WANDERED
Taken years wander around,
too Bored with day and night
The wind hisses,
newly kindled stars gaze
Hugen cuts after, in me,
while clouds ignore and the birds swear
Are then waking the night in vain
and fathoming the moonbeams
over this bloomed out meadow
Surrounded traces of this life
become gladness itself to a shimmer,
which runs
through its ground base
before hope is expected
and avoiding
the formed heritage
where inaccessible turns,
waiting, Calling, waiting
One inside all the Light in here is played;
hearing wind whisper itself amongst leaves
in front of this awaited death duty plight
A rare functioning love insight
BLISS!
LOVE!
NECTAR!

GROWTH OR BE DAMNED
The filthy flour is milled bitterly
down among the Aesir-betraying scum
Blood-letted, wronged, all that is foul!
Truth forgotten, all high forced to dream!
Imitate not the dead eternelles, you sorrowseeds!
Raise not your tearfilled voices to a false comfort
around those soiled words of impermanence
Quelled spikes shall die! DIE! DIE! DIE!
Lowest are brought here through the entrapments,
and when Good intentions is missing; will flicker dead,
parasites impose themselves not trustworthy symbioses,
excruciating, in denial of Holy Knowledge with an empty spite
We all participate in this Fated battleground
The War continues for Odmade against doomed
Condemned breathe;
but have nothing for it
Condemned die,
for their will does it
OWNERSHIP IS NOTHING YOU CAN HAVE
MIGHT STAND YOU NOT TO FIND HERE
COME NEAR THE NEW TIMES REAL DEMANDS
MEET A WORLD WHERE ALL CHOSEN IS KEPT
GROWTH OR BE DAMNED IS THE CHOICE LEFT,
AS WE ALL KNOW THAT RAGNAROK IS NEAR

FROM THE GROVES
You should never eat from fouled troughs
from the stinking Outhouse owned feces,
misery can merely form you stone flowers,
so take away these ludicrous things past
Let not orators of emptiness dizzy you
in scribbling’s of older and later times
For emphasis visibly written to control
and out of misguided traces this lives
Your toothless babble is here futile
when unborn been made wiser than aged
and Only will that fully can be filled
is found to be your wished will to cease
May you pay for your revolting crapfaith
where nothing akin to sense ever took nest!
This shall be torn away! Axed down!
Forfeit be everything scum call rights!
WEAKEST WEAPONS’ FILTHY MISDEED WILL BE
KEEP AWAY FROM WHAT IS OURS TO SOLEMNISE
Next to these fair and shimmering sun stirred trees
has Midgard long been our place to fence
Voicesmithed runes of land and sky
are heard sounded from the groves among the Chosen for Life
Can hardly steal my own ownership
and learned Choice only High and Right
We walk strong in hidden Odingroves
for the awaited Time to hold Holy

IMAGINED RAVAGED!
Missing, unsown, removed,
stricken minds scream
and bloodied lay the wood,
forced to be risted again
Impotent lie the senses
while your kindred suffer to death
and the conscious frauds
call their name as science
Cast away lied scrap!
DENY! DETEST! CAST OFF!
This horribly filthbuilt slag
have our right foes brought forth,
for the foul have fouled here formed
and where this can stick it does sit
Scum’s unpleasant mindtrapped weakanswers
of high pathetic drama are their forlorn life’s alike
and poorly their feces presented can feed
in a pride so great over this world they violate
Forced upon freedom to perversion compares to freedom,
uttered through a very real humiliation and downfall
while blinding plans drive forward the false wars,
deceiving, slaying millions from entering into Asgard
Ruptured plausible explanations are tried to be normalized
where the art of foretelling sows secret weapons for suffering,
hubris is bleating emptily from inside the protective pens
and underneath the stones the insects feast on so piously
Taking battering rams against counteracted raised walls!
Bringing suffering to unholiness’ empty vessel carriers!
LAWS AGAINST DUMBNESS!
NITHING AGAINST ILLEGAL SCUM!
AWAY INFECTIONHORDES!
IMAGINED WILL BE RAVAGED!

MIDWINTER’S ENDSTONE
Darkness has hidden my paths
Cannot find Reality alive here
Scars, much mentioned, are all too well in
(Lighting the nightlatern and stepping above the frozen crust)
Paid far more than all of life’s values
and I am driven thousands of years into Death
My name: The Mights’ first risen endstone
A chalice brought me back up from the Well
to where sorrow and hiding alone found my life
Herded through set and made misfortunes to timber,
fastached memories where denied the Worlds been dormant
while all the days’ bite remained as bitten together
until refusal was dragged in here; to its very final remnant
Served out revilers in late for useful grave embraces
so proud over their stolen, undeserved aged greatness,
and clung on up the gable sit all the pretty platelickers
while Midgard truly rotted, stiffed, to meaninglessness
Seated comfortably benched stares deceit at this waiting,
begs so dearly what righteous was worth for the Worlds
and wishes my presence to bite sloppily and pitifully,
harshly; and to finally spit their sickness in after their bites
Risting firmly that done so becomes Time.
Know that Truth is my burial mound.
Know now or never.
(Extinguishing the nightlantern and stepping through the frozen crust)