Riding towards the horizon

Upon the monumental rocks, awaiting

the end of a dishonourable life,

I perceive my morality fading to

a weakly seeming substance,

climbing towards my yer unsealed

faith, I arrive (faith arrives)



Staring into the abyss of Midgard,

above, the Angels of Asgard

and the armour of Loges child.

Im losing myself in an odyssey through

the bottomless

depth of my spiteful soul.



At the end, the will to die.

My nag becomes restive,

I open up my eyes

and spread out my arms:

"God of gods, take my inglorious soul!

here is nothing left, for me..."



God of gods, ...



My hands are longing for the lance

and aim at my vulnerable essence.



God of gods, ...



As I lift to strike...

A sudden lightning bannes my glace.