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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

The Waste Rapper's Rhyme

We look to Hela, Goddess of Rot.
Hands raised in supplication, (fingers flutter in praise,)
refugees from land of life seeking guidance and blot.

Skeletons in line, passed souls doing fine
dancing a jig to the waste rappers rhyme.
Purgatorys a pit with an open door,
corpses eat meals on a glistening floor.

Black daylight, heavy air,
young and old souls
placed in Mother Death's care

She cares for my grand sire, my father,
kin of my unknown and later my son.
Praise be to Hela, don't give her flack,
for she is Mistress of all who will survive Ragnarok.

Salena Levy (aka Anderson)

Temple of the Flea

This work by Salena Levy is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs License.


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