Wolf Age

I have stood upon the battlefield.
Oily black feathers and razor beak.

Blood and leathern skin,
Hunched shivering around the spear.

The wingbeats boom loudly by my ears,
The taste of ash and metal on tongue.

Oldest god,
Skin of teeth – dread gaze shimmers in smoke.

Bringer of terror,
Father of slaughter – mighty and thunderous.

Hollow eye.
The glossy black maidens winnow for me.

I have thrust myself aloft,
O\’er all the world as screaming eagle.

Tramp of armies echoes through the heart.
Beware the small-souled men whose weakness is poison.

Iron am I,
Lord of War – wolf\’s skin-father.

In my Emptiness I am wrathful,
In my Fullness I am Light unveiled.

There is no hate where I am,
Only the Simplicity of Will.

Bloody gauntlet raised in utmost defiance.
Metal blow struck deep in hungry throat.

Dismembered, rent apart.
Thus do I walk.

Ghost-Father that picks his precious Fallen.

Awful bender.

In the midst of the blood,
Memory blooms as scarlet-thorn.

Aye, amidst the carrion of a billion worlds-ends
A jagged smile of bone-white knowledge.

Shuck the cloak,
To wander as bride\’s bliss.

The kiss of cool skin and sharpened tongue,
Slow moving liquid pellucidity.