The Bridge: An historical Overview from Past to Present (Mythical Series Volume Seven)

Generations gone before these same eyes,

 Much has changed since the temple’s flame,
 Of those men, the only to remain is me,

Months had since parched us dry,

Since last Freya left our side,

Men grew tired, men grew bored,

The withdrawal from blood to shed,

All imprisoned, could be worse I would tell,

Factions were forming before my eyes,

Sides were drawn,

Many would hold back biting tongues,

Their belief, their faith, remained with me,

Obey their guide, their religion, their creed,

Others boredom clawed beneath, created wounds towards their very chance at immortality,

These men were good at bludgeoning,

Excelled at piercing flesh and crushing skull,

Patiently awaiting the sign to come,

A daunting feat for each of them,

Word quickly spread through the units,

Asgaard would not call upon us,

The Gods have given up, have forgot about men like us,

With only the same fruit, same drink, same mead, same meat,

Without variety, tempting evil grows close and nigh,

The men began to question the memory even,

Of Freya standing before us that night, doing what she did,

Requesting what she would,

Sven, a bold soldier in himself, raised axe with violent abandon,

Broke his voice for each world to hear,

His patience and he claimed to speak, for each of us upon this hill,

Had become breached, and had long since been dry,

And if an enemy were to come,

So much a gift for beast or man,

To clash with souls smothered by contempt, of men standing still,

I rose to urge him not go with such lines any further,

But too much mead he had got,

Lost in misery he failed to see, that the mission was not complete,

We were but pawns in the grandest of schemes,

And wait we must to collect our rightful things,

My words were dampened by their ire,

Effigies of Gods they would place on the fire,

When a flash reached each world in its brightening,

Could rueful words have awakened?

Would the hammer soon claim our scalps?

Anger turned to somber fear,

Fore in all the men’s disparaging words,

Each was not foolish to believe a God they could fairly fight,

Surprised the men, myself as well,

From asgaard’s glow our rivers swelled,

Our livestock rampantly multiplied,

All variation of fruit to eat,

A golden ramp would close the gap,

A bridge for where the vegetation was at,

Men were at awe,

Open faced, ashamed and scarred,

Then wood it would appear,

Along with nails made of solid steel,

Hammers too aligned the shores,

A sign our waiting would last much more,

Enough wood there was for each of us,

A house to claim as their own,

Fattening upon nightly feasts,

Debauchery led to best night sleeps,

But again, time greatly swept us on each side,

And men grew tired once again,

The food, the drink, the libations to keep,

The nails, the boards, the homes we built,

And yet these men desired comfort still,

Long days went by and the greatest of each unit

Would cease not to cry,

Many vowed to cross the way,

To the closest towns,

The nearest villages they would meet,

Women were the drug they need,

I warned them all that soon would come,

The announcement from above,

And they did not believe a word I spoke,

Beards like this take time to coat,

They’ve lost track of us up on this village hill,

They’ve left us here to die,

To rot away so close to the core,

So near the sky,

No they pled enough play the God’s have had,

It was time we gathered all and deserted this rueful mission,

At which time the sky turned red,

Then nothing could be seen at all,

We’d all been exposed to a blinding might,

And each for much time saw darkened light,

 Stumbling most the men would do,

Until their bed they’d feel,

Retire each would for they each required replenishing,

When I arose the next day since,

I noticed each home was still the way they’d last since been,

All men accounted for,

Nothing changed at all,

Until I saw a sight that would spirit lift,

Awaken faith within them all,

In the rivers, the water clears,

Maidens, so many for eyes to hear,

Each bathing as the God’s intended them,

By this time now, the men had arose,

And vision had returned to them,

Upon seeing what I have,

Their quest for departure had been left for dead,

With a quickened pace,

We all met the maiden’s by the lakes,

The first one brown and gold,

Approached me, and such she told,

They were hear for our needs fulfilled,

There was one for each man in these mountain fields,

To take and choose,

Pick the ones they chose to own,

And so they did, all but I,

I chose to remain as I had,

Devoted to the God’s alone,

Myrta, the one for me,

Understood and judged not did she of me,

Together she spent many years,

As friend, as companion,

Never questioned did I her,

For women also have wanton wombs,

At which time I heard a voice in prayer that night,

Which told me my honor was beyond expectation,

I should lay with Myrta for the rest of days,

And pleased with this news Myrta laid with me,

A thousand years since has passed,

The scenery had spun into a village,

That now rests as the shoulders,

Of three towns strong with maidens as well as men,

Sprawling down the mountains, into fields and past grand valley ways,

Each warrior was taught the trade,

I oversaw each detail they were to learn,

My men, the maidens, my family too, all gone and burned,

Their children, and their children’s children too,

No one left from the day Freya came and sang her song,

But from those men, because of them,

Today we stand an army wide,

Awaiting the calling still from above,

Many generations now have not spilt blood,

Many more do not care of it,

Peace is as unsettling to me,

As hordes of demons from each side,

From below, and from above,

But ready they were,

Dedicated for that day,

Many more days had crossed,

Many fall from age,

Yet many more replace them here,

Children ask me all the days,

Why am I the only one, yet to pass away?

A question I had answers none,

They called me a God myself,

Quickly though I ended talk like such,

I live until I die, until that day,

I live to serve, and Serve to live, and live to survive, Survive for them, as well as you,

This is the path, this is the goal,

And if we die before they return, we will wait in silence, from our tombs

Alms for the Broken (Mythic Series Volume Six)

Golden handle to the door

Will gain us entry to eternal glory,

Extend my arm towards the goal,

Upon touch however cold it is outside

The flesh within the lamb protecting

Fingers from the blade scold at first

Then burst to blaze,

Still I pull back with a thousand might’s,

Yet the golden entrance does not blink,

In flames I seek release of hand

Yet my soul is powerless to magnetic command

Warriors look for access else place

But the fire from the gold and hand

Has spread throughout this temple grand

My sentry did what he could do,

Axe to wall, not a budge

The courier climbed from horse to rooftop high

Amidst the blaze into holiness he could not pass,

Like fruit still ripe upon the vine

It took three men to peel the glove from the hand of mine,

Short time after all that stood was the door of red,

Golden handle and charred lamb glove,

Slowly we waded through the temple’s corpse

Among the ash and smoke taken cloth

It was determined the inferno offered no remorse,

The chalice we could not find,

If it was here, buried in rubble and debris,

No mouth would raise it to its lip,

No tongue would drink fluid from its width,

So far we’ve gone, this close we’ve come,

Yet without the cup we have not won,

No words were spoken for long hours,

The thoughts of men were not desired

We each knew the pity we shared,

Each dream of reunion burned as well

And soon the God’s I must tell

Morale was sunk beneath our mortality

If enemy appeared this moment,

Thus would end our reign of brutality,

The Gods would need to find another,

To do their bidding,

To honor the pact they have with humanity,

And so I prayed to each,

Internal rhyme I could not find,

My message must not have been understood,

For nothing from the sky descent by our side,

Wait we did for months it seemed,

Afraid to move for the God fearing,

Unable to for the weak,

Then many moons had passed,

Freya appeared at last,

Each face opened, jaws broke in unholy disbelief,

But their came down the chariot,

Guided plainly by the blessed cats,

Love felt by each the men,

My gaze transfixed upon falcon

Wrapped around her holiness,

Softly spoke she did to us,

Appreciative of what we’ve lost and battles we’ve won,

Upon my knee, before her pride,

I begged a moment of her day,

She said to rise and speak my say,

I thanked her for her graciousness,

My lady from up high,

What do Vanir seek from I,

To which she instructed the importance

Our service means, and soon directive

Will return to us, but here upon this mountain’s top

Wait we must, and wait for whatever length,

Obey in the Gods we will trust, using patience for our breath,

She retreated to chariot, then stopped and knelt,

Touched the frigid earth

And suddenly vegetation sprung to our surprise,

And then Freya left us all,

And wait we would,

Until we next heard Asgaards cry

The Readiness (and then She happened)

The Readiness was there, it was everywhere

Magnetic, is how she happened,

An alternating essence, evolving every layer,

Dissolving suicidal cravings,

I knew, there right then, God indeed has plans for men,

 Over built and destructive to the soul, the dilemma quite atrocious,

When the creator has cradled his project,

Would not assign responsibilities to his team,

Then when the funding cut,

He had his baby but not much of what he did,

The razor was vertical,

Inches from impact,

Sweat tore holes through once distinguished clothes,

Quivering, twitching, having the hardest time steadying,

Then the cavalry marched on in,

Sent his son and daughter away for the weekend,

Couldn’t let them be the first to see,

Yet it appears his son left behind a piece of him,

The phone which some believed attached to his hand,

Perhaps it was not the moment, he may return before they came,

So instead he would choose to deliver the phone to him,

Then alone he could be, with his deadliest intention,

But as you know, as you’ve been tipped off to,

The best laid plans often fall right through,

On the path back home,

His children’s faces, they way they presented themselves,

Right there, at that time,

It’s like they were cognizant in an unfathomable way,

Perhaps his melodramatic words gave him away,

Perhaps, but as you know things don’t end this way,

Roads of tar, one way out,

Due to construction, a different avenue back,

A street one block over,

Could have been in California,

All this time, each day since passed,

This feeling so close,

A smile crept upon his face,

Puffy thoughts could not escape,

Random stumbling of the words,

Music loud, if you knew him, you too would find it absurd,

But all of this had fine reason,

Shaking feet, sweaty hands,

Veins screaming for injection,

Injection of her again,

And so begins a tale we all thought was done,

Yet through some well timed twists of fate,

This man shall experience, a truly new, a reason to be,

He shall embark upon a brand new second life, a season filled only with varying speeds

Which Way Shelter Runs

Which way shelter runs,

Upon commencement of a settling sun,

Daggers drip of melting snow,

Twinge in texture, organically ambition grows,

From red tinted languor to spite filled rhetorical cries,

Interloping between mosaic thoughts and layered tears,

The posturing of this arrangement blurs the lines, lines you despise,

Multi-faceted illusions begin to creep,

A blend of power amidst a violet much too raw,

Wild antics on display, the disease is active, the strains are deep,

The key to secrets that you keep,

Repress the visions that you saw, repress them, repress them all,

Which way shelter runs,

Along the subdivisions of crooked roads,

Deep amongst the cluttered dark,

Tattered motions provide the spark,

From refuge to those who follow blindly,

The moldings of the framework are alarmingly disfigured,

When comparing kings and pawns,

And thus one difference between raven and swan,

The once awakened pretty creatures weep,

For one day soon awake you will from your sleep

Betrayed by Swine (Mythic Series Volume Five)

Our reemergence was but minutes old,

As the temple our eyes told,

Short march past

Some angry brush

Stay on course avoid we must

The bloodshed we’ve grown accustomed to,

The pain, the misery, the prayers by some

That each moment should be it for them,

Upon our march, single filed

One man noticed the peculiar absence

Not a noise stirred, no voicing screaming

From the clouds,

We all agreed it was strange indeed

But it was the comfort our ears need,

It’s been long, devastating,

We all are worn, but in that holy place

Our deeds this day, a culmination

Of our past thousand or longer hours,

Spent beneath death, spitting in the face of agony,

But here we are with all odds beaten,

Arrived we have, our war is done,

Moments from the gate of holy men,

Another of my clan spoke a point we had blinded eyes toward,

Since when are boars content to abide by arbitrary mortal law,

Never had they witnessed obliging pigs unconfined,

And then our weakest soldier escaped a thought,

To which blades unveiled, and shields aligned,

“How did not but one, but how did eight boar arrive to this place,

Miles from the level ground, a good distance into clouded sky”

In pattern, in design

The heavens had changed

The lightest blue filtered through a whitened hue,

Transformed to ruby red and dark tinting screen,

The swine had betrayed us,

Our own satisfaction had left is in contentment,

Pig flesh burning, snouts and fangs contorting

And from the swine monsters rose,

All the while biding time to strike

Shape shifters in boars’ clothes

Monsters shapeless without form,

Engorging the peace this mountain morn,

Soon their darkened flesh

Would meet the blood of the fallen

At the mercy of our once tempered blades,

And so it went, only one clansmen

Lost his head, but from which

My eyes found a way, an angle

This led to an ease in victory,

Where every monster would be slain,

As my brother broke containment

Shield in right, left with sword

A trickle of aura tore through painted cloud,

The monsters tail bore swift

Lopped my man in two,

But in this moment of supreme sorrow,

The emanation scarred his shield

And with light reflected their weakness was revealed,

And in such the very manner,

We stood our ground,

Swords high, shields angled,

One by one, they didn’t learn,

One by one,

As is the pattern we’ve wrote before,

The numbers in helvete,

 Have shrank some more

The chalice is behind the temples’ mouth,

 Lest another tries to stave, soon high the chalice shall be raised

Springtime Leads to Summer (Not so Fast, says your Mother)

Springtime,

Trees begin to sprout natural green

Oxygenation levels rise organically

Sun sprays to the heart

Rays of light envisioned

By heroes of everyday land

Normal, average every men,

They’ve got intriguing blueprints,

Yet when their canvass returns to bleakness

When the vision is blurred

When heat withdraws

A different message is conveyed,

Whiteouts in almost April,

When just last week we travelled to the attic,

Pulled out the boxes,

And renewed old acquaintances,

We’d hope to become re-familiar very soon,

And I awoke today; the same as every day,

Yet when I opened up the curtains,

Raised the blinds, certain to see a few days into spring time,

Green grass coated by misplaced snow,

Instead of outside, inside we return,

Instead of removing the plastic from the pane, we increase the heating bill once again

In This Exaggerated Tunnel

In this exaggerated tunnel,

We are forced to ride,

To and from everything,

The notion is noxious

The forecast is daunting

Frame upon frame

Seemingly the vision doesn’t change,

Many like me aboard; also there are those I do abhor,

And then there are many others I’ve grown numb towards

But I see people all the time in a different mindset,

Joking, conversing, communicating just fine,

Some is one sided, head nod then good day

Others are deep and intimate

Where neither wished it to be any other way

Not caring by who sees what

They are both looked upon

By an extra large shield of love,

There then, that’s the answer,

Fall in a stupor and fail to acknowledge

The reality and confusion which surrounds you,

Much happier, very convinced in the fallacy

Everyone is born good natured,

They say reframe yet I think it’s so much simpler to leave the train