SIGFRIDSSON 1 SIGFRIDSSON 1 SIGFRIDSS HUNTED
HUNTED
HUNTED
IN
IN
IN
INVIOLABLE
INVIOLABLE
INVIOLABLE
BLOOD
BLOOD
BLOOD
GOTSALA 46
GOTSALA 46
GOTSALA 46
PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON PHOTOGRAPHY BY 1 SIGFRIDSSO
ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSSON ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY 1 SIGFRIDSS
78-91-979005-6-0
TED EDITION
ISBN ISBN 978-91-979005-7-7 978-91-979005-6-0 PRINTED E-BOOK EDITION
978-91-979005-6-0 ISBN 978-91-979005-7-7 PRINTED EDITION E-BOOK
ISBN 978-91-9
E-BOO
LIFE IN MIGHT! COME WINDS! STORMS! COME LIFE IN MIGHT! IN BLOOD FROM BLOOD! COME TIME’S FORCE ― MIGHT OF ODIN!
THE GODS ARE LIFE’S AND DEATH’S RULES ALWAYS PRESENT HERE AND SET ABOVE!
DENY THE FRIEND-ROTTEN LOATHSOME ALL WORDS! HEAVE AWAY HIDDEN IN DREAM AND EARLY FOR NOTHING! LET THE TRUTH MUTE ALL OF THE DIMNESS AND DOUBT! VIET OWNS MIDGARD ALONE AND WED IN LIFE HERE!
THE WAR IS TEARING ― DRIVES FORWARD A FINAL REVENGE AND BLOOD WETS THE BARK ― RUNS IN THE RIGHT TRACKS!
WE ENABLE HERE TRUTH, HONOUR AND RIGHT! WE TAKE HOME LOVE, FREEDOM AND MIGHT!
THE LAW IS THAT WE SHALL BE WHAT WE ARE! COME TIME’S FORCE ― MIGHT OF ODIN! COME LIFE IN MIGHT! IN BLOOD FROM BLOOD! COME WINDS! STORMS!
MORE THAN LOVE Seldom do futile words about love take on a living, but leave in defiance its new ruins everywhere. Listen in here carefully now, sneerlife; Wrong in the head means wrong in the eyes. Right in nothing owns rights to nothing. Shut thereafter kindly your slow snout. Advice on advice writes a starving harvest wording a wisdom stolen from nonsense wherein tiresome words are endowed pity so like raisins showing the full grape vine We know all too well that been and had is nothing to be harvested, so keep all your filthy, wry-legged and weakmoulded words where all regretted “love� always takes its way home to be hated Hear the laughter at your comparing of mutual infantilities to be sane and find you thereafter that the will to your wrongs are missing here, furthermore that more than love is not a mystery; The Name will remain. Rip from its hold that cleanest emotions have here too hard been used up, that fairest scum keep creep in line before the foulest! Rip from its hold that suffering and death stand All near! Take to its hold that Honour will outshine petty survival, that only Truth does own us in real beauty!
INVIOLABLE Poured in a few warming glances for sweetly rare memories to carry away, pity gone by, to enclose this inviolable, yet get to sense those wet summer meadows caress my legs, to catch the calm wind close to the corner of this stable Dreamed, I am everywhere down here called a dreamed A hidden, inside indecisions; the seasons rake me in as gone Glances of Life linger on to remain inside the bitter hurted and to guest the old property as if this life still was alive, as if an unknown mist hanged on to this very Life perished, as would my life still remain in Life as my own life (Coldly clear. A partly unhinged wooden gate creaks wind, opened unto a forgotten yard whose remains can be sighted slightly.) Leaned over wooden boxes filled up with potatoes and carrots, smelling in filled bags with mealy apples in the foyer cold which all lasted as long as Winter would hand its permission (Frost stricken. The gravel path glimmers its fragile floes, small stones set inside the frozen sand did glisten still.) I am snared sorrow-wise, bilious, mild-eyed, fragile and lost like the last apple shined witnessed left on its winter branch sees this year’s harvest of autumn leaves beauty rolled in frost
I stand ended, alone left unarmed against unreality’s gruesomeness
Sidling up to the charcoal kiln forgotten by the region in thinking of friends’ swords drawn out from the field below
Underneath the darkness, fresh laid snow mounds in a blue bleak winter night
Brewed afterglow: Dead stars’ cries of regret in the night beneath gleamingly lingering daybreaks remain ― Unreachable
THE PATH TO LIFE My life is small, broken by the shattered My life is great, carried by the edified Necessity and will sum jointed to The Only Path to tread where Truth Reigns and Wisdom Wins Invoking Clarity Vision and the Path to Life! MY FOLK ARE THE FOLK MY LAND IS MIDGARD Let here Viet’s will awake, in our dawning birds chirp while veiled tears run without joining us to the bitter
ULTIMATUM O! You so easily bought, mightless and tarned, trapped scabby with the loss of lust caught, fully emptied of rights: Necessarily trashed! You… You! Forgotten remaining in a worn and fouled You! Eyetiredly drowned in permanent quicksand You tracelessly left to become helpless, you filthy weak and meek, listen up a while! Long enough has wished for been searched down in unwanted while all illusions are being emptied of gladness where false found thought-worthy qualm unthought thought and exertedly spill its power on the pitiful needs Only misanthropists can love what our world has become while deprived and crushed promises been mortarized for the weed itself has scuffled in thirst after our blood, around, and down, at the poisoned well’s places And few wish little more than to qualify as wretch… It is me anyway so bitingly bitter to break with ripped apart society’s broken where the crippled and dizzy demand Life to crippled be Hardly.
COLOUR OF LIFE I am so gladly thrown in here with the ability to see through air Turning me into Wind and becoming 0% blind! BARRIER DOWN! BARRIER DOWN! REALITY! EXIST REALITY! COME REALITY! REIGN! TAKE ME! LEAD ME! FILL ME! FLOW! FLOW! DRIP! OCEANS! LANDS! SKIES! FILL ME!
Birdsongs awake
Drinking of twilights
Something breathes in nearness, realityborn, herein realitystrewn One warrior mind of bluest skies pouring in life’s most beautiful colours, beyond all the conceived mind games, past years of formed wolfmonths SURVIVING! GIVING MEANING! REGRET NOTHING! RISING OUT OF DUST! SPEAK! SPEAKING AS THE NETTLES SPEAK! USING CHOICE AND POUR IN LIFE’S COLOUR!
ON ROSECOVERED SNARES’ PATH Weedbundles to catch Nettles to eat Blindfolds to carry Walls to bury Life to sort In drunken swagger after slightest right to hold loved sifts the funny farms steadily for what is most sane while the scum lie absent-minded with a red apple in the mug Un-astute unwieldy ― Wretched, grubbing in exchangable Nothing, turns around, not unlike stinking and staring cows And hardships little bread crumbs look good in darkness’ corner meanwhile the very finest scum oink away to their babble songs Retards demand to equal eachother to live furthest down in clutching after cheap thought-jewelry and life-pettiness Misgrowth is dug up ideals: Meaningless crass experiences But, unclean will remain being Gladness’ most rare guests Weedbundles to throw Nettles to grow Blinfolds to burn Walls to build
Life to sort
DAGAZ WILL STRENGTH KNOWLEDGE MIGHT HOLINESS LOVE Option and will’s contradicting Truths became in growth compelling illusions, to gain given for the strange twistings that become feeblemoulded reactions: Selfish need Imagined hatred Guessing’s drivel Thievery’s fraud Unreachableness’ theory Emptiness’ survival strategy It dawns to cry off the unclean time’s burden, the counterfeit rights will be taken away Life was brought here and given Viet to inherit and one’s own will shall enriched be recalled TIME TURNS TO LAID FRUITION! LET THE WINE OF CLARITY FLOW! COME GLADNESS! BE HERE! LIVE US! COME INHERITED AND STRENGTHENED! COME TO THE NEW DAWN! RAISE YOURSELF FREEDOM! STEP FORWARD GLADNESS! BE MY LAWS!
LIGHT CAME! THIS IS THE POWER TRUTH HAVE SEALED THIS IS THE MIGHT OF THE HOLY RITE SHOW YOURSELF TRANSFORM YOURSELF YOU ARE SOWED TO BE LOVED! SOWING GROUND! EMBRACING WIND! CLIMBING OUT OF WINTER! AWAKENING THE HOLDERS OF WORTHY BLOOD! THIS IS A SHELTERING FOR THE ENCLOSURED WITH THE FUTURE FREE FROM HOMELESSNESS! THIS IS VIET GIVEN OUT FROM ITS HIDDEN, BROUGHT TO ENNOBLEMENT OF THE TROTH! WARRIORS LIVE THEIR GAIN WITH WISDOM AND LET ALL FUTILE SLIP AND DEAD FALL! TO THE SWORDS! CAST THE WORLDS AWAY FROM ANGUISH! LIFE HAS BEEN DRIVEN HERE FROM ITS HIGH, TO HARD CHOSEN CHOICES WITHOUT CHOICE! BEAR SHALL TEAR, WOLF BITE, SNAKE STRIKE AND RAVEN RIP! LIGHT CAME! TURN AND WITHOUT REST WANDER HOME!
ALREADY THE FROSTBITES SEARCH Stand surrounded mists on borderland grey above returned, night hidden, molten leaves (Broken off, fallen, still these hardly missed lives will arise with overturned spring ices) The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens Springtime travels inside, breaking its hidden deathbread, while unhealed wounds rasps in my greyest hollowharvest I was here, I was here, I was here tied to an uninhabitable world of sorrow and meat where bitterhard seed strewn for the ices to live as cast away, and all too overnourished crap; All tenderness and reality is beat The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens And already before the moment the last autumnsigh awakes the frostbites searches the paths to its final wintergatherings so alike the summer flowers trade in their seats in the groves before Time has found that Autumn plucked down all meadows Can only dream to remember gladness here, be on wait, be sighed through by all of these dawns and twilights, knowing the withering’s terms, always unbefallen, await, in beauty sent away from its beginning for blossomings The nightside thickens ― The striking cold fastens
A LETTER FOR REVENGE Was of a mind ― lingering, in easily nested reasons quartered an irretrievably empty room: Waiting The pulled; cards left me forced down and inconsolable, rarely really good enough, left clinging hard and silenced Placed there; the thorns filled the Path up to the Skies and kept hidden for any pieces of mind or indifferences Cutting in; my screams on the pitfall walls and passing through labyrinths by never entering… Writing home; to dear Truth about the forgotten and tearing conditions of Life:
You insist that I grow alone and in heartlessness, to infirmity calling out longing’s incurable reasons! See here this understanding interpreter of his longing that never feared that emotions could die away much more acknowledging to have stopped within a wide open stare and sadly emotions cannot be further blunted down any more in the fouled languishing growing away into suffering while effect readily collects its too simple excuses. But, wishing still to be offered just one decent tomorrow that down here refuses to gnaw the already clarified. Everything is so dumb… that only with words can it be considered wisdom.
TRUTH’S MERCY You, you so roseborn and luminous, in guise and lifted into nothingness, out of fear blunted blind and bound, selling grief all its laughable advices You, you lie springless and inconsolable, in famine outside of Truth’s Mercy This is tragic It is the broken’s tears This is freedom in a world of dross You weathered down call yourself perfect while life’s dumb illusions become wills and thoughts shape more dumbness to explain reasons for all dumbness Waivers of the only raised above are tolerating vexed ridiculous ideals, defined out from futilities’ stomachs and will be found where miseries hunt For while all High is praised you love with what is spoiled Ends scraped forth in suffering where naught was and soon forgotten in turned sight’s snaring deeds Warming this powerless pathfinder which should loathe suffering’s might before he here infected will self-starve outside the existence of Truth’s mercy
THE EMPTY LINE Have in winterworn loathing tearthought, enclosed around a dying man’s clothes stuck as frozen resin in the trunk’s bark Have laid winterlight in nightcovered whirling snow, becoming a strange cloudcarrier, clarity’s riddle, leading extinctor of feigned life’s cloaked love Have trapped been stuck an all too hardened living where something untouched steadily stands strong as an unspeakableness; to always be denied rotting An empty line takes infirm spurns into nothing.
Have washed in the thought-vein and grabbed hold of clarities, mentioned the windtorn year’s maze, adorned sighing
Laying left a while ― A silenced and battered only acknowledged by the seeing Uninvited eels drink, fattening on the wordsuffering in this last life Destone me Life’s vein Try now hurting what is dead.
FURTHEST OUT ON AN ISLET Furthest out on an islet where the sea wets the rocks stands the struggle to protect thoughts from observation Darkened rests the Path ― Darkened rests the eye
Burning the words.
Lifting my gaze, beaten it drags down to stay
One friendfreed… as weary glitter is useless
One lovefreed… as polished glitter is ridiculous
Later on touching the dust fallen a deserted cabin floor, in borrowed night camp, torn apart and embracing Nothing
Darkened rests the Gard ― Darkened rests the woods
The War clutches.
Listening, hear stillness wander over this forest lake when sun-reflected moon gleams in the oars
Standing taken from lust, staggering, in brightened summer night in front of inner shy thoughts
Pulling in my weights, threatening, in darkened summer night where all Answers keep asking
Dragged into Life and marked again Into clarity and mist poured
Hatred so strong that it refuses to take its hold; to take feet on the shore down by the ten rivers
IN NIGHT FROST DRAUGHT Hidden in my last winter abode came Death like a frail and excusing crying mourner and sat down in apprehension, in whisperance:
Searched here for Life itself to befriend, in the wounded you, in your lone dying We are a left, shadowfree storm, holding our rugged words against darkness, pressing the nights hours; teaching us coldness (Was drawn here through the lands inside darkness Dragged over all the time distances, stones and ices) And cold has just my fairness in its word, while emptiness, has its emptiness stuck in the Weave
WINDSIDES Living merely in my autumn leaves, watercourses and clouds, like a kissed harvest pulled by longings silenced promises and as unwillingly begged, hard nightflowered and teared The forest sun-striated (Dreamed in Life’s Windsnare) meanwhile the raining leaned in slowly, hesitent steps (Watching melting, hectically dripping under springsun’s might) In stonelee will soon the violets be placed harrowed here again and then fade, shyly slouch, under the night-time’s journey (Enough about that.) Stepping up a daily route and got beautiful together with dawning and when later the rain carefully fell asleep weary beside the dusking down under raking forest tree tops underneath the greyspeckled skies was springs-ground seen turning home to barrenly (and slowly) thaw drinking Gazing miles wide around over the halfway snow stained mounds where furrowed fields stood silent as frozen, stopped sea waves, while the Winds hit, took headway from all four sides, then suddenly!: At precisely the right time beams of the Sun broke in over the district The springtender light lit carefully (Warmed the last years grass) and little shadows flickered themselves quickly over creek and river
I have eye-caressed the pinebedded grounds fairest days before nocturnal fog arose around tender forestshadows
Beneath rainpines’ dripping greeted my sight modest flowering, together with the rain teared down with most broken branches
Indulgent crop on sweet forest ploughed strips, stay here.
THE CRACKS Thinking myself taking oar strokes between the field islands hills and sail by untouched; in defenseless journey forward into a new dawn Detained‌ while the written clouds dense the sight have gleamed-through wisdom been graveled and extinguished Remaining in a missing future ― where memories rupture * Am in fragments to piece together Threadthorned blinkers to throw off A hidden away pathfinders aging heart We or You, forced to cuddle with suffering for its ugliness sake We, have suffered enough, streamed in the cleanest well for others Insufficiency has gifted more than enough while Death bit by bit caught us marked for life too long Have traced the frustrations; the conditions itself, setting in hearts a rope to snare the scab carriers You know, was so heartstarved, forced to fair my eye, overdose beauty in a torn down world where animal life now is set as a goal to reach up to You, there must come in prettier days here soon Speak.
FROM INSIDE A NIGHT STORM Thorncut deathyears healed roving path’s too many times while a riddling cure strewn in all the nuisance… Grievance, told to be gone, listens deafstruck.
Lived all too costly for unloved, fouled and unwished, and if that was enough or nothing does not make a difference when unlived truly is to prefer; as always near to is lower than Nothing
So puny became my life that shallow beauty is life and finding me nothing more clearly to find herein So grand is my life that the inner also is its surface which find itself nothing more clear to leave herein
Death is closing in, so damn irreplaceable, the obviously final unbreakable Chooser is already here, immodaretely in love with all called ― Life
SIGR! FREOD! SUN! You bind the birds and strangle flowers You poison chosen wells and are felling care trees You cut away Holiness, burn Goodness and spit in the bloods
Setting myself as well-guard.
Covering the naked Tree with my wounded body Setting life in grey blue skies and turn the bark to the Sun Painting the flowers’ colours ready and make the stones come alive My Önd scorns darkness and gives Light its striations So be my friend, you loved, and give yourself grape stock (The most beautiful to behold) Bind meadow flowers in a wreath around your head (The most beautiful to be tied) Give yourself as final well water, holied and filled with might (The cleanest that can be brought forth) HEAR MY NAMES! SIGR! FREOD! SUN! WE ARE REAL!
DRAINED OF RIGHT Thoughts are ruled in much by repelling revisionism through all those exchanged identities revulsionism Drained of all right forged traditions are now followed where the Solstice ceremonies and its use been fouled
(All this while imagined feelings from fear’s simplicity have become divisible tools to hold on as if high here.)
Fooled scream themselves great and thus all infect, adding their largest stench mouths in their begging and ridiculous ignorance as their powerful weapons ejected against those poorly pledged pitiful minds Contaminated are the choices for the life to choose under degrading shapes separating bids, and this live on coarsely, revolting, and nauseating; all the while insanity’s raised barrier surrounds Intelligence is perceived only by the intelligent and Knowledge sought to cure erroneous behavior even when faults are placed against wrong by parasites So quelmed was here the strength without Time. When Reality, here and now, regains its vision, washes need off and recognizes the gladness stolen, then carved be my remaining border to any doubt My sword shall with might be soaked in every mind. Wit and growth twisted! Murder and humiliation secretively clouded! Call your word found excuses what you want and dare, scum! Fated you will remain!
FROM RIPS AND STABS Your dreams hold that we have blood blended but untrue be old friendship you have scripted Friend-worthy were you never to me and my contempt is clearly understood. Your behinds look so clean after they’ve been emptied and smeared their feces over everything called high Oaths given was in all dug out and hollow, alike your quelming pornography’s falseness. Knowing you know that here you have no rights or cause in spite of this these surroundings are twisted and raped in the aim to scorn, break down and murder our blood while Viet is forced down to live as the used and denied.
I am sensing the eyes that read my thoughts written while the traditions already are insected and undermined, for through the deeds done scum find their greatness, but drag mine to yours never will fall for being any alike. The self-realization in that you call yourself flies pleases and fully proven stands here this invincibility Attempts to take names of the victorious become stolen words which never are to come home to any Reality. Contaminated nonsense will everywhere be taken away and Viet can here bridgewander The Path to Life, hereafter our kin/kindred and friends will meet and awareness rist its gladness over the suffering. Now leaf-prepared are the forests and inside the hearts for our New Time have come back here to overtake So, raise the gaze away from the old humility and crave, fill lust for the next life, and this! WE ARE HARDLY FOOLED THAT OTHER CHOICES EXIST! WE SHALL LIVE ALL THAT WE CALL GOODNESS!
ALLBOT In the Tree two ravens have waited long
They are seen greyed, withered, torn, before the chain finally is ruptured Crutch this. Retrieving Life here Letting Reality speak Teaching Knowledge to reform inside the Allright’s right over right The gates have here been opened wide and good use all honoured will own, living brightly with Valhalla’s awareness in the always present moment spring arrives Standing under the mill’s bridges, in the glades by the smiths, at the stupas on sun caressed hills and forcing love to be clean again Drinking the Allseeing Samwater of spring water and burning wood Cutting sticks, solidifies the shape where the core is SIGge FRIDulfSSON Reincarnated to save this forthcoming time to fall from straw death and honourless life Count me four hundred steps of years in Time and find yourself there the greatest of all Answers I am a stranger nowhere and Time is waited through me STEERING TIME! OVERCOMING DOUBT! RIST RIGHT AND RIST SIGR, RIST FREOD, RIST SUN TO THE FUTURE!
TAKEN YEARS WANDERED Taken years wander around, too Bored with day and night The wind hisses, newly kindled stars gaze Hugen cuts after, in me, while clouds ignore and the birds swear Are then waking the night in vain and fathoming the moonbeams over this bloomed out meadow Surrounded traces of this life become gladness itself to a shimmer, which runs through its ground base before hope is expected and avoiding the formed heritage where inaccessible turns, waiting, Calling, waiting One inside all the Light in here is played; hearing wind whisper itself amongst leaves in front of this awaited death duty plight A rare functioning love insight BLISS! LOVE! NECTAR!
GROWTH OR BE DAMNED The filthy flour is milled bitterly down among the Aesir-betraying scum Blood-letted, wronged, all that is foul! Truth forgotten, all high forced to dream! Imitate not the dead eternelles, you sorrowseeds! Raise not your tearfilled voices to a false comfort around those soiled words of impermanence Quelled spikes shall die! DIE! DIE! DIE! Lowest are brought here through the entrapments, and when Good intentions is missing; will flicker dead, parasites impose themselves not trustworthy symbioses, excruciating, in denial of Holy Knowledge with an empty spite We all participate in this Fated battleground The War continues for Odmade against doomed Condemned breathe; but have nothing for it Condemned die, for their will does it OWNERSHIP IS NOTHING YOU CAN HAVE MIGHT STAND YOU NOT TO FIND HERE COME NEAR THE NEW TIMES REAL DEMANDS MEET A WORLD WHERE ALL CHOSEN IS KEPT GROWTH OR BE DAMNED IS THE CHOICE LEFT, AS WE ALL KNOW THAT RAGNAROK IS NEAR
FROM THE GROVES You should never eat from fouled troughs from the stinking Outhouse owned feces, misery can merely form you stone flowers, so take away these ludicrous things past Let not orators of emptiness dizzy you in scribbling’s of older and later times For emphasis visibly written to control and out of misguided traces this lives Your toothless babble is here futile when unborn been made wiser than aged and Only will that fully can be filled is found to be your wished will to cease May you pay for your revolting crapfaith where nothing akin to sense ever took nest! This shall be torn away! Axed down! Forfeit be everything scum call rights! WEAKEST WEAPONS’ FILTHY MISDEED WILL BE KEEP AWAY FROM WHAT IS OURS TO SOLEMNISE Next to these fair and shimmering sun stirred trees has Midgard long been our place to fence Voicesmithed runes of land and sky are heard sounded from the groves among the Chosen for Life Can hardly steal my own ownership and learned Choice only High and Right We walk strong in hidden Odingroves for the awaited Time to hold Holy
IMAGINED RAVAGED! Missing, unsown, removed, stricken minds scream and bloodied lay the wood, forced to be risted again Impotent lie the senses while your kindred suffer to death and the conscious frauds call their name as science Cast away lied scrap! DENY! DETEST! CAST OFF! This horribly filthbuilt slag have our right foes brought forth, for the foul have fouled here formed and where this can stick it does sit Scum’s unpleasant mindtrapped weakanswers of high pathetic drama are their forlorn life’s alike and poorly their feces presented can feed in a pride so great over this world they violate Forced upon freedom to perversion compares to freedom, uttered through a very real humiliation and downfall while blinding plans drive forward the false wars, deceiving, slaying millions from entering into Asgard Ruptured plausible explanations are tried to be normalized where the art of foretelling sows secret weapons for suffering, hubris is bleating emptily from inside the protective pens and underneath the stones the insects feast on so piously Taking battering rams against counteracted raised walls! Bringing suffering to unholiness’ empty vessel carriers! LAWS AGAINST DUMBNESS! NITHING AGAINST ILLEGAL SCUM! AWAY INFECTIONHORDES! IMAGINED WILL BE RAVAGED!
MIDWINTER’S ENDSTONE Darkness has hidden my paths Cannot find Reality alive here Scars, much mentioned, are all too well in (Lighting the nightlatern and stepping above the frozen crust) Paid far more than all of life’s values and I am driven thousands of years into Death My name: The Mights’ first risen endstone A chalice brought me back up from the Well to where sorrow and hiding alone found my life Herded through set and made misfortunes to timber, fastached memories where denied the Worlds been dormant while all the days’ bite remained as bitten together until refusal was dragged in here; to its very final remnant Served out revilers in late for useful grave embraces so proud over their stolen, undeserved aged greatness, and clung on up the gable sit all the pretty platelickers while Midgard truly rotted, stiffed, to meaninglessness Seated comfortably benched stares deceit at this waiting, begs so dearly what righteous was worth for the Worlds and wishes my presence to bite sloppily and pitifully, harshly; and to finally spit their sickness in after their bites Risting firmly that done so becomes Time. Know that Truth is my burial mound. Know now or never. (Extinguishing the nightlantern and stepping through the frozen crust)