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~ By
Courtesy of Others ~
Wod
Your rage is a dangerous thing, my Lord.
It reaches too deeply into the core of me
for my breath to find purchase around its bite--
further even than the roots of the Tree reach into Hel.
It intoxicates, arouses, seduces, as You seduce
and I have few defenses against such charms--
no matter that my fear runs as deeply true as
those gnarled roots upon which the worlds rest.
Tear me apart, oh my God.
Rend and shred the divisions between us.
I grow so very weary of my own inability
to consummate this love affair.
My very humanity is both blessing and curse.
Stretch me upon the Tree, my Lord,
for I shall come to You in bloody pieces if I must,
bit by bit, inch by desperate inch.
Do not tease me with the promise of
madness
but destroy me if that be what it takes.
I no longer dread the games of Gods
for this love compels.
I have no choice but to once again begin anew
the long, hard trek to Valhalla.
A warrior must be broken many times to gain entry there.
© Galina Krasskova,
2005
AuImage: © 2001 Harri
Kortekanges - His
Art Portfolio
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