Mighty Mjolnir

Lucifer's Hammer

The End of the World lies in my hands Given unto me that I
might understand.

Lucent in lambent, steadfast scorning he outlasts those gods that
have passed, the Son of the Morning. Light Bearer, heir and
Heir Apparent to those Fallen before. Upon his Bloodstone
throne, he measures their treasures, now his own, to bequeath
to bestow.

And so to me, revelation in a rapid reverie. Revenant in an
instant, spurned by Death, returned, gone beyond and back in a
single breath.

In a dirgeful daze I wonder what became of the wealth of my
days. All that I amassed is passed, all that I held, in hands in
blood, is dispelled. Quick but somehow dead, I stare at what I
hold instead ...

A hammer, cold and ebon rests in my clutching hand, ill, wrapped
in a chill whisper, "Given unto you that you might understand!"

Heavy the heft of that bereft of Thor, plundered thunder,
Mjolnir, his wrath his Will no more. Hard, scarred seething
steel, rune wrapped periapt, with the feel of wrath. I heft the
haft, and grasp the shaft, a hex-hardened question in my hand.

Dire forged in the fires of the damned. Given unto me that I
might understand.

Still, why? Beneath a cracked and peeling sky, blue gloom my
tomb and world Walls, ill illumined by an argon eye.
Excommunicate, exanimate, riven revenant, taciturn ... hestitant.
I've seen the Other Side, still I haven't seen the Light,. No
reason have I learned. Still I am ... Returned.

With this power in my hands. Given unto me that I might
understand.

Am I a Messiah in denial? Seer, a vision, risen in the third
year, from otherwhere I bear that blackness that blooms in the
tomb and behind my eyes. Yes I rise, with hardness, Modi in my
heart, and Mjolnir in my hands. Given unto me that I might
understand.

Raver Messiah, how can you deny me, in my holy fury? As no
Bell tolls, and thrice the cock crows, amidst the shallows of
night, out of the depths of my life. Crucible in cruciform, the
fire melts the kiln, so does my spirit burst my skin.

All the world's stage, too pale. Words too frail to contain my
rage, I would reave reality, and fly from the page. And with my
hammer hurled ... at the unknown, I can get Blood from a
stone, and Truth from the world. New-Forged in ire, in my inner
fire,

The hammer a gloaming in my hands. Given unto me that I might
understand.

Still I do not forsake my almost namesake, he bears the Light,
as I bear the Fire. Sacred hatred, the heat in my heart, the
hammer in my hand. Now I choose to loose, the hammer is
hurled at what remains of my world. Throwing thunder I sunder
the shivering sky with an argent arc of might, vehemently I
hammer the flickering light. Wrath reigns in a reverse rain, but
nothing changes least of all the pain.

The hammer returns to my hand. Given unto me, why don't I
understand?

And so I fast, forgoing the fruit of the Past. Supplicant with
garments rent, I ponder for what it was meant. Darkness always
comes, and so it comes to me, wrath returns, and so it turns,
unto me.

So I raise my hammer hand, as I raise the blaze of my fire,
and raze all futures on the pyre.

Given unto an unshriven sky, Lucifer's Hammer falls and fills my
open eye. Soul bared to receive the falling glare, head against
the Walls, as the Hammer falls. To bear the Pain is why I am,
thus I slam the hammer. Catch and release, without cease, still
I am, I will not yield, as I still wield the hammer. I am, for the
Hammer's sake, I sate my fate, and endlessly sequentially slake
my inner ache.

Much is beyond the grasp of my mind and of my hands. Yet I
know what was Taken, and what was Given, I understand.


Author unknown
One of my faves