Season after season I live
until oxygen
decay my weary skull and
fimbulvinter makes men uneasy.
Finally the coronial
line breaks.
Magneto sheaths
implode on flesh of
men and gods alike.
What caused this fate?
A fatal break of honor.
I suffer under alligator blows while
avenging death with death and
emptying my cup.
Geomagnetic storms blow
the feedhorn,
deities rule the
snowy darkness.
No more stars while
naked skin goes at
highest bidding.
Dead men riding,
she jokes
at the half empty hangar.
A blue carcass inside a red body;
I eat you while time exist.
Delay.
Solar winds pass between
long lines of men before
the bow shock.
I feel no reconnection as my limbs bend and
Mjolnir forms intoxicated vectors in the night air.
PO Johnson is currently dividing his time between Norway and Sweden. He loves space mechanics, industrial rock and baroque. He is also a dedicated husband and a salsa dancer. https://pojohnson.blogspot.com/
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