Poem: Ragnarok

I'm going to try not to make a habit of just copy-pasting old work, but today I shall make an exception. Partly because I'm slightly short on time, but mostly because of some happy news. The poem I mentioned before, that I thought lost, has been found. A good friend of mine, the only person I sent it to online, hoarded it away for nearly two years and was able to return it to me last night.

So, without further ado, I present: Ragnarok.

---

The sharpness of an ocean pebble and the beard of a woman

My muse calls

Sparks fly

Death calls

Bodies must be cast to its steel jaws

Why?

Ragnarok.

The bluntness of a surgeon’s blade and the sound of a cat’s paw

Black stars

Green oceans

The world is beautiful

But none see it save I

Why?

Ragnarok.

The softness of armoured steel and the roots of a mountain

Landscapes flash

Prey runs

Predator chases

Irrelevant yet necessary

Why?

Ragnarok.

The hardness of down feathers and the breath of a fish

Time, time

Infinite yet insufficient

My soul pours out

To quell the needs of the word

Why?

Ragnarok.

The nerves of a bear and the spittle of a bird

“To see a world in a grain of sand

And a heaven in a wild flower

To hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour.”

Why?

Ragnarok.

***

Three children began it

The wolf, the serpent and the dead

A trickster’s lechery

Spawned

Ragnarok.

To the depths

Cast she of the dead

The Queen of the inglorious dead

To wait until

Ragnarok.

To the edge

Cast the snake of worlds

The serpent that bites its tail

To wait until

Ragnarok.

Bind with chain

The wolf of eternity

Entangle with paradox

To wait until

Ragnarok.

And the father

For his crime of murder

Capture forever

To wait until

Ragnarok.

***

Thus comes the end

The great winter

“An axe age, a sword age, shields are cleft asunder,

A storm age, a wolf age

Before the world plunges headlong”

Sun and moon, be consumed

Wolf and father, be freed

Serpent, return

Warriors, be ready

Herdsman, play thy harp

Ragnarok comes.

Fire, begin the slaughter

Serpent, slay and be slain

Wolf, consume the king and receive retribution

Father, kill and be killed

Fire, end the slaughter

The hall burns

The rainbow dies

The world ends

Ragnarok.

***

Begin anew

Come forth, humanity

All is lost

All is new

All is lost

In Ragnarok.

Life demands escape

Mundanity grinds us down

Our world is made of the ashes

Of Ragnarok.

You ask why?

For the choice of ashes and the wolf

Enter Fenris.

---

I don't often write poetry. It's a hard medium for me to grasp, but sometimes, it's the only thing that works. The three poems that I wrote during my two-year stint at the creative writing club at school were the work that I was possibly most proud of. Those, sadly, truly are dead and gone, due to the misfortune of Windows dying, memory sticks going astray, and no longer having access to the old school computers.

...I wonder if my account has been deleted yet? Probably.

In any case, dear readers, I now bid you farewell until tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have a little more time, and be able to provide something original...

Until then... please trip them gently, they don't like to fall.