The Wolves of Odin

The Wolves of Odin.

I awoke this morning a Wolf, transformed,
No more a mere man but a beast,
my soul unsated by books of pale scriptures,
Yearning for runes as red as meat.

I dream in daylight of the darkest night,
of a wild hunt that never ends,
running free beneath a hunters moon,
I am Wolf to Man.

Now I take what I want, when I want it,
and gorge freely on all things forbidden,
What once I was taught was bestial,
are the keys to the gates of my heaven.

All your vices are reflections of my virtues,
I am master to all you blind slaves,
I am exalted by all my myriad crimes,
And you are condemned as depraved.

No more can your tablets of law bind me,
I am unafraid of your gods and your lies,
you will see me walking your city streets,
but not ever for what I am.



( I awoke with the first two lines of this poem already formed, and the lines fitted in with the image of an archaic and ancestral pagan tradition based on the totem of the wolf that though persecuted over hundreds of years still exists in the modern world we inhabit ).