When One Hasn’t Slept for 9 Days, Some Choices Seem Rather Logy

When you’re standing at the Tree
and Odin says, “Come with me.”
Well, you have a choice to make, Son.

And it’s the choice upon which
the slaughtered remains
of all your other choices will rest
now and forever. Amen.

When you’re standing at the Tree
and Odin says, “Come with me,”
you may think you’re already too late,
with nothing left to lose
what the hell…

but you will learn
as He did learn
that there is always more.

More.

A virus in the blood:
MORE.
Grist between the teeth:
MORE.
The taste of blood on the tongue:
Always MORE.

The holes left in a soulskin
stretched wyrd and wide
Dyed with the heart’s ochre—
they let the spirits in
don’t ya know?
Not all of them leave.
Remember that, Son,
when that question comes
and then think of this
after the Tree…
if there is an after:

All that red…
touch tongue to lips
breathe.
Scream.
Listen to the heartbeats
Scent that fear in the air
You’re one of the monsters now
and it’s glorious.

The Hunt rides.
Across your bones,
But it rides.

*************

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Posted on March 13, 2017, in Heathenry, Odin, Poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Man, this one is meant to be spoken out loud. Beautiful.

    Like

  2. VERY well done–this is wonderful! 🙂

    Like

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