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Contemplations
The morass of civilization
weighs heavily
upon this warrior’s soul.
We are numbered things
from birth to death
owning sovereignty
not even over our own broken flesh.
Overfed, over-worked, over-stressed
and blind most especially when we think we see.
Were Midgard’s wyrd min to unfurl,
I would return us to a time
when the blood of enemies was the highest sacrifice,
when the terror You bring was celebrated,
and when men who called Your name
were actually brave.
I would bring death to this place if I could.
I would bring down this world of men
and the mad, pitiful creature they call a god.
Here, Ragnarok would be a blessing.
©
Galina Krasskova
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