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Welcome to The Wyrd of Brianna McKenzie [Adult and Private]

19:49, 20th July 2024 (GMT+0)

Wotan



Uprose the King of Men with speed
And saddled straight his coal-black steed:
Down the yawning steep he rode,
That leads to HELA’S drear abode.
Him the Dog of Darkness spied,
His shaggy throat he open’d wide,
While from his jaws with carnage fill’d,
Foam and human gore distill’d,
Hoarse he bays with hideous din,
Eyes that glow, and fangs, that grin:
And long pursues, with fruitless yell,
The Father of the powerful spell.
Onward still his way he takes,
(The groaning earth beneath him shakes,)
Till full before his fearless eyes
The portals nine of hell arise.
Right against the eastern gate,
By the moss-grown pile he sate;
Where long of yore to sleep was laid
The dust of the prophetic maid.
Facing to the northern clime,
Thrice he trac’d the runic rhyme,
Thrice pronounc’d in accents dread,
The thrilling verse that wakes the Dead;
Till from out the hollow ground
Slowly breath’d a sullen sound.