Words of Expectation
by Tone Wasbak Melbye
I fear these bonds are weakening
these thougths that keep me still
of all things weird and wonderful
that draws me from the kill
I will not yield, I cannot change
yet centuries I sat
with pointed ears, intent to hear
the soft step of a cat
And still I stay, I watch and wait
for stringy bears to show
and for a fair young maiden
a footlong beard to grow
In time I'll see the birds form spit
and fish discard their gills
and find the twisted, ancient roots
of gently rising hills
I keep in place in silent awe
of things which fills the mind
with wonder of the wild and strange
like chains around thoughts twined
The things which those around me now
by petty fear let dwindle
and in their steady slow demise
destruction unknown kindle
They make with mad hypocrisy
a world devoid of wonder
and with their righteous ramblings tear
the bond that holds me sunder
They turn the things that keep me back
all dull and trite and bland
in what looks like a race to win
the pity of their fellow man
And then they build around themselves
in hurried wellmeant blindness
A harmless world where horrors hide
in reason and in kindness
I dwelled in marshes at the edge
of what might yet be real
by Loki and Angrboda born
to goodness' damage heal
And when I have no wonder left
no strangeness and no beauty
I'll leave the riverbank to do
my foretold mythic duty
So free me not with your denial
and know that I have waited
For I am Managarmr, Fenrir
hatred incarnated