Riding towards the horizon
|
Upon the monumental rocks, awaiting
|
the end of a dishonourable life,
|
I perceive my morality fading to
|
a weakly seeming substance,
|
climbing towards my yer unsealed
|
faith, I arrive (faith arrives)
|
|
Staring into the abyss of Midgard,
|
above, the Angels of Asgard
|
and the armour of Loges child.
|
I¢¥m losing myself in an odyssey through
|
the bottomless
|
depth of my spiteful soul.
|
|
At the end, the will to die.
|
My nag becomes restive,
|
I open up my eyes
|
and spread out my arms:
|
"God of gods, take my inglorious soul!
|
here is nothing left, for me..."
|
|
God of gods, ...
|
|
My hands are longing for the lance
|
and aim at my vulnerable essence.
|
|
God of gods, ...
|
|
As I lift to strike...
|
A sudden lightning bannes my glace.
|
|
-----------------
|
Kissing The Heathen Amulet
|
| Adorned Brood |
