TIME’S BLOOD

SETTING CLEANSED STEPS WITH THE IRON.
BINDING THE CIRCLE ON SUN’S MIDDLE.
FASTENING MIDGARD’S FOUR DIRECTIONS.

A STORM NOW TEARS THROUGH THE NINE WORLDS.

TIME’S STEPS: YGGDRASIL IS OUR TRUTH.
TIME’S BLOOD: LAW, RIGHT AND VICTORY.

HONOUR IS ALL THE MEAT OF WISDOM.
THE GROUND IS OATHBOUND FOR ODIN’S WORLDS.
ASGARD’S CHOSEN IS LIFE’S CHOSEN.

EYE-MEETING (FOR A FRIEND.)

“But say, wouldn’t you let dumbness amuse,
be fooled to lack responsibility for yourself
and be struck dead for the rest of your life
like others? Like a normal funny farm being.”

Seating myself sternly down and answering:

Find here your hardest eye-meeting.

Misled, into qualm and anguish thrown,
stuffed yourself thrall-bound with all that is indigestible.

Do you know that every dumb thing gets your applause,
but scum’s trash is all that scum will beget in return?

Searching inside after something called nothing to express?
Wrapping thoughtlessness around deranged and led opinions?
Foolishly smiling indulgently when impropriety and foulness appear?

Your turbid thoughts now cling after some doubt
in a strained smile fooled away from sanity,
so consider that weak-hearted is wrong
and filth always did harden your ugliness.

You have already enough to suffer from;
that thoughts are counted as your deeds’ freedom
and that need would strengthen or break down,
but it will become an insight of an inner unchanged.

Our foes construct barriers against the Life we do own,
setting in and leading your undignified wrong choices,
wrapping steadfast rotten meek in your “free will’s causes”,
twisting wishful thinking and gnawing down all will and lust,
axing onward your “self-deception” at our lives expenses
there “open-minded” will quickest possible be very shallow
when “acceptance” means to be carved with the defects of others.

It is certain that your inner and outer blemishes are laid brickwork.

Cry my tears for a while,
but now carefully note that you are the cause.

 

A CONFIRMED FATE

Raising up a monument

over an exception in excess and far above,
one who refused to own wrongs, but was robbed for far more

Well, it is clear that Man harbours here; there Worlds see:

“Am after repute active in other places
and that is surely more than a clue hereabout…

The years took me too early inside of current futures
therein true visions lived when near was;
but never really was lived.”

We agree upon refusing the revolting parts of the whole,
so doomed are to us the unwanted: All those coerced roads.

TRACK DOWN THAT THE NIGHTSIDE NOW BELONGS TO OUR DEFENCE
AND OPEN EYES ARE REWARDED WITH GOOD AND TRUTH. TAKE THAT IN!

STRAIGHTEN TWISTED THOUGHTS IN THOSE WEARING BLINKERS WITH HATE!

CRUSH THE LAST CONFIDENCE IN THE TREACHEROUS! FIND HERE THE ANSWER!

… IN LIGHT! Settling my death with my foes death.

… IN DARKNESS! Becoming an avoiding ghost.

… IN LIFE! I am pleased and drunk with victory.

 

FORCED WILL CHOSEN

Acknowledging my honour and sweetest high-lineage,
I stop smoothing over my well-deserved nuisance:

Scoffing at the revolting; useless to this world,
remaining in solved questions and hardened riddles.

Agreeing with truisms and people’s will,
when that fully and gratuitously has been attended.

Stabbing dead meaningless opinions!
Axing down bumptious pretences!
Leaving sense against wicked deeds!

Gather thoughtful goods:

Know that Truth, Honour and the Rights of Might,
don’t serve our foes as weaponry
as all here now is owned by Viet.

Reasons for an honourable Life is Life’s claim:

Remember that rich owns the Light:
Caring for Life’s Goodness;
path to insight and dearest life value.

Truth is our sufficient property.
FORCED WILL CHOSEN

WHERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

It was in a time before silence was altered ―

just as daybreak came walking across the region
while cloudshadows swept onwards ― observing.

And the world set ― in Dumbness; uncountable scars
where excessive junk searched of ways to be charming…

(Myself? Wandered free there the dew never dries
and all of Life’s paths showed forward to Odin.)

We vaguely remembered safety and honestly owned excess,
real life in beauteous honour ― a longing home to Asgard;
to grow well rooted value only Goodness could bid Us.

(Obeying my steps. Leaving the bare ground opened traces
in time before the first snow will return as a threat.)

Skillfully, surely all too well, Truth answers:

“Tear down any seeming solace ― it is venality: Death.

We have foes to correct; to pay our plight, in our sight,
for naught stand more fairer grown than killed lies in life.

Let shatter the nightmareyears. Give Truth to hate and cure.

BE HONOURED! MIGHT AND GLADNESS! SET YOUR LIFE’S ROOT!”


THERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

SUNBRANCHES

Firmly risted in hidden recess until Ragnarok.

Fetching yet another unlovable stretch to love:

Branches in wait here, all too dead calm
before, as foretold is; We can gather to the mould
as love’s owned and dying breed: Caught,
while sea mist rises inside the birchleafrains

The leaves down in the slush dampen hard steps.

The lacking; root to crown, severely drains this world.

But, wilted flowers recall that they won against darkness!

WE ARE HERE! CAN NOT LOVE OR BE LOVED ENOUGH!

Welcome, to our rich camp’s unity
there Sun will hand us his friendliest reverence
from forestkissed skies freed from uncertainty
inside of dusk and dawn, dear Light of excellence!

VALUABLE LIFE FINDS THE HIGHEST FUTURE,
SO HASTEN ― STRENGTHEN NEW DAYS ON THE PATH!

RIGHTS TO CLARITY ARE THE WORLDS’ SOLVED ANSWER:

THE GODS WILL REMAIN!
SUNBRANCHES

REMOUNT

We know, know how a shattered thought bit us:
That to life dragged will here be thrashed.

(Now owning the last torn down lifeline.)

Weakening down, defying that weakness is death.

These are tangled years
where the wishing doesn’t reach down to matter;
wrecked frozen unripe buds
where needs don’t manage to reach up to any will
from the fallow; the growth lands,
there lust rarely tricks itself grown above loathing.

(In front of hurtfilled opened eyes to realities
burns a cold indifference down inside; through us:
Dumbness of Worlds in all its swathing wholeness.)

Viet, the new time, taking year after year,
where blow upon blow sets the boundaries of the helpless
and harshly hits any survival with swath after swath

(This world where thinking has stayed in death
and the rotten parts of wholeness are to be cured;
leaving a new unity worthy of our lives.)

Righting here this world’s flat and foul opinions.

Life, awaken to be sharply lived with the Rights
teach that all rot inside came from outer affront
and finding no value in murdered sufficiency

Shaping Midgard’s holds and leaving all emptiness.

REMOUNT.