Endgame

Bind me to the sharpened tree,

the sacred sword you made of me,

tie me with my son’s insides,

poison me and more, besides,

bind me to the blade, a shade

of loathing left to die,

and empty me of laughter, fade,

where Ragnarok’s shadows lie,

for I am the poem’s final line,

the great song, absent sound,

I am the dead gods’ death, divine,

I am Loki, bound!

 

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Little Blue Sky

Azure as the sky,

a cerulean hue,

cornflower, sapphire,

brilliant blue,

it is navy and wavy,

the song of the sea,

red drained from purple,

the sadness in me,

it is indigo and windswept,

a siren, absent sound,

barely a whisper,

but pretty, profound.

 

Dance of the Damned

Inscrutable, immutable, power, irrefutable,

beware the spirit in the song,

engaging, enraging, the page, a cage, unchanging,

the chance to dance along,

unsuitable, disputable, sex is executable,

beware the spirit of the song,

staging, rampaging, the raw war we are waging,

the chance to dance along,

the chance to dance along,

the dance to Satan’s song.