Fro Ing, I praise
thy sacred herb for
ecstatic flight.

To the unknown Garth
I travel within stone columns
of Wyrd’s Well.

From the inner deep
I rise by Thunar’s grace.
Laid bare.

Mimir’s question hangs,
a treacherous gift of the Allfather.
Silence resounds.

The choice is made.
Stripped of all vanity and pride
I open myself.

Geri and Freki howl
as One-Eye’s fire rages
within me.

Valknut branding
sears my heaving chest.
Filled to bursting.

The Well abandoned
to all but the flaming sigil
of mighty Baleygr.

Thus are the servants
Of mighty Odinn claimed.




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