The icy winds redden my nose
The faraway howling of humanity terrorizes my ears
The roots of life burn wicked around my shackles
God sits passively
God sits passively
An elven servant comes forward
Brand in hand
Like a steer he marks me
“One of the flock”
God chuckles
sheared of hair
I sit quiet
Breathing harsh
Forgotten by my people
Odin watches
Buddha ponders my destruction
Brothers in suffering
Sitting under a tree
Chained to understanding
My sins laid bare
She comes to punish
Soon the dwarves come
Scooping at the bloody matter
Taking both eyes
She comes
Scaffold in hand
Nine more imposters
Hanging for the father
The all-father
Arranger of the world
Hanged God
Ancestor worship
Kings none
Grandmother approaches
Hammer
Nails
Two boards
Vinegar breathed
I fall screaming
Your heart revealed
I wish to kiss the descendant of the king
The wanderer finds me
I lack sight
He gives it
Strength he affords
Quiet in the dark
I am the son of God
The son of Loðbrók
Sea king
Prophet
Forgotten poet
Failed
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