Come to drain the boils of rancid cancer
The needle wielding horsemen handsome
Lancers on panting horses
Coming down a painted mountain
Like a flood coming to drown them
On the backs of sweating four legged panzers
Black breathy sweating panthers, lathered flanks like tough leather
Sinewy legs, much rider and ridden faced together
One with blade makes of head a roofless cage
Dispatching with ruthless, rueful rage
His blade stained rufous, no tooth of it blunted
And no swing of it blundered, it struck shields with a thunder
Before blasting them asunder, oft the wielder came under
His rearing horse to be broken, many this way smoten
Piles of gouged corpses pleasing to one-eyed Wotan
Who sees this bloodshed as a single, unified votive
More than his quotient in mayhem and carnage
Blood enough to fill an ocean, many bowlsful
Foxes and wolves and worse pull at the opened bowels of men
Like unspooling ribbon, sprouting squidically from riven chests
Men risen to myth feast in meadhalls with meathead heroes
Men lowered to ghosts with no ego rot in the meadow where they fell over.
Alchemisland 
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