Lover’s Declaration III

Which Valhallite for more life would not stake

All hours unlife’s estatial halls wineful gloried 

Who chooses stained glass immortality

Over corn’s faintest Elysian brush

Hasting wind making baled hay hiss

Sand reforming in awe-ordered fist.


Dead and so forever

Flown through the arches

Dark dress, mourners marching

Blessed now, regardless

Whether ripe-hearted or charmless.


Dead upon wet sand 

No grand speeches

Only exhausted land

Murder-exalted man

Waves beach-hiding

Red in toothless clawless crawling endless

He whose Odyssey ended still in Greece

Mother alike to a Hecuba

Watching her husband hacked down in sacked Illium.


Wounds my steel casts

Are bane to all healers

I peel to the cored seeds of men 

I feed corn kings back to the fen

I am power, then

I sentence cast

Committing that

Which hath man damned since Adam.


I am peerless in battle, many battles have fought

I am baptised in slaughter, Achilles knows my torture

I am a lord of hurt, unfit for soft things

Neither cushionling nor kingly, what stays me I push 

What rushes me I put aside, blushing with essence the soon-dead daring 

Where men err I excel smiting, my axe biting lightning-fleet

My tested metal true biting, lightfast streaking like a comet to a gullet

A skull above a gorget

Gore, roaring downward bubbling

Life guttering out, blood typhooning

His back a lank plume mulletting down.


I have not the scrolls of which sages speak 

But I have a street smart, a thief guile

Light on my wit’s feet

I have many men beaten, with blade and fist 

I have with many buxom maidens trysted

I beshipped Charybdis

Her bespoke corruption ructioning, vessel rupturing 

Girdling her whirling, vicious roaring rings.


Men would guide you, hide sorrow from your eyes with evergood tidings 

I would pay gleoman play you lyres, find in leaves

Omens of your roaming ghost in heart’s halls

I would pause during prayer, applauding you over the Gods

Staring at the sun of you, loyal dog, until eyes did o’erfog.


Have me here, a thing to bait

Upon me yourself sate evening late

Have me navy your ceaseless seas, winedark snotgreen

Let me kneeling grease hems with lip’s due, being itself adoration 

Let your moods be my stations to crosscarry past 

I will love you though, alas, cold chary 

My bold chariot gleaming gold stirs you not a moment more to tarry

No army shadow will settle near these shores if I am chosen

Let your heart be unfrozen, let your coffers be plundered by another

Let those marbles muddy, lest time outrunning us

End the sun before our lips together come, twinning as admixtures.


Sheathing steel

Lifts necked heel

To Ares appeals

Thunder peeling 

As if in answer

Trineing lightning 

Across the horizon

Offering no guidance

For a time silence

Only tides titheing

Taking back by inches 

Land due Poseidon.

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