In the time of the end
No sages' divination
In the time of the cross
No sagas' animism No
Odin swinging from Yggdrasil
Each note a stone whose
Sacred strain has come
To open the mind's wild tomb
From the fields of icy prophecy
First among the Aesir
The world tree's ripest victim
The world tree's darkest savior
Nine nights & nine days
His eye hung upside down
In the haunt of sleep-starved hunger
The wound of twig-strewn ground
Shapes fell from Valhalla
Magic runic letters
Carved on wood or stone
The suffering fetters broke
Glyphs' ungodly strength
Niflheim's antidote
Healing for the roots
Sere & dragon-toothed
Ragnarok avenges the masses
Burning north in a nailed ghoul's ship
Loki at the rudder bearing down
Enraged with the flame of Nidhogg
Odin's ghost withers with the world tree
But the runes remain scattered in vastness
The sharp scored blood of their symbols
Bearing witness to the mystery of witness