"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

14 December 2020

Sings.

Bruegel, The Gloomy Day, 1565


When Yule fires burn most brightly
For the frigid northern gale,
Behind shutters bolted tightly
'Gainst the blizzards icy wail...

Beneath that song that winter sings,
Comes the faintest distant sound,
An eight legged hoof beat rings
In time to ghostly baying hounds...

And finds thin the veil between the living,
And those that dwell in barrow mounds.

Slaeghunder  

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