i stood on the shores at abyss' doors
amid the piles of bones
stood on the steep and acclivous shores
covered with white stones
i turned my eyes to crimson skies
crimson to the edge
turned my thoughts to one-eyed god's
sympathy and rage
ashen rain, efforts in vain
a little less faith to remain
who do we trust in our nights of last
whom do we listen to?
do we still loathe taking an oath
of little mistletoe?
thunder god wandered abroad
he's still there, so i have heard
the strength of roots surpasses far
the strengthes of stone and steel
the weight of boots is heavy on grass
the weight of boot and wheel
Sif the fair cuts her hair
in hope to seed the weald
the sight of scorches she can't bear
she nurses them to yield
ashen rain, efforts in vain
only faith is to remain
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