The Wild Hunt

I awake from my slumber; The martyr's kiss mocking me. These nightmares far outnumbers The hope I conjure in my dreams. Far within the trees; A league of hooded devils With hound and steed Hunting for nightly revels. A witch they hunt through the dead of night, Through the forest they'll set alight. A dart shot in the ancient tundra, Aimed in the dark; pulls her asunder. Torrid fingers cling and strain in distress: The wrath of God searing my ghostly flesh, A greed for power; the need to suppress. No sound is heard about their hymns But the thrashing of her naked limbs! Through the screams comes a painful sigh; Violently they spread her thighs. Prey on the run from the hellion's prowling, Through the realm of bak; the wolf-wind howling. Nocturnal, solitary silence Breached by unholy violence. Towards the aeon light I speak: "Grant these cloven-hooves Godspeed!" Adiuro te per patrem et filium et spiritum sanctum, Non amplius crescas sed arescas; Super aspidem et basilicum ambulabis Et conculcabis leonem et draconem! "Bind her wrists and bar her mouth: Before day's end, her tongue'll be out. Wretched child, I curseth you - May the devil strangle you!" From Odin's ride she solemn fell Into the depths of Urd's wretched well.

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025