A vision in white

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

Sweet sigils of heaven take me to my rest and I smoke and sing and I am awake for a time; sweet and gold and silent are they, and I a queen of Eden: stinging snow is falling on my skin and slowly I fall, not screaming but murmuring some soft refrain of a song long forgotten in a language never spoken- a king unveiled as queen and a poet unveiled as king: long live the gods of poetry and inspiration, the bezerkers and skalds pledge themselves to Odin both (not sleeping but waking and drinking of mead); chanting an anthem of surreal worlds visited only by the honored dead: this anthem is my song, and my dream, and my world, and the sound of it rings through my vision as a sweet, sweet sensation: Holy Holy Holy art thou, Eris, Odin!