Fenrir

Fenrir

A Chapter by R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)
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Just a madness I have yet to know.

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Fenrir, the wolf of Ragnarok

Phenomena bottomless

Paraplegic legion

Paradoxical carbon monoxide saliva solidified

Conceptual vasectomy, gives me an erection, unprecedented

And we’ll catch up for a moment before we walk our separate ways again

Because I guess that’s all either of us really wanted

Gorgeous enormous forest aurora borealis, metallic metallurgy surgery surging vertebrae constantly

Traverse the thirsty

I’m just me, that’s all I am

Invaded temptation contained plainly insanity commanding me mangling the tangled tambourine

Rage perforates the intoxicated ocean

I feel like a chess piece, checking on my mates

I’m been broken with torment so much that I am no longer broken, no longer burdened, hurtless

Live that way, die that way

Laugh that way, cry that way

And no one will see you fall, almost as if it never happened at all

The one-winged angel suffers not, but thought

Everyone thinks I will break; the world

The world in me; it keeps me breathing

I am the master of worlds, on the boarderline personality

Fenrir is emanating amalgamation  

A dark phoenix behemoth

The revving engine of a pendulum penetrating revelation

Monstrosities anomalous monopolized sarcophagus across the skies acrimonious unanimous passionate

Ravenous stranded

I know I’m going places, heaven, or hell

Even if I find Valhalla, the pallet of malachite icicles in my climaxed bypassed heart have taken my joy and rerolled into total despair’s exposure cloaking my miscarriage, my story, broken my flora, burdened my flourish, leaving me worthless, bleeding my purpose

Euphoria ornery, forward we fall into battle again, and so many have fell that I couldn’t defend on this battlefield

Shattered the stratosphere with dark mattered havoc a maverick of severance, now and forever again because we were all men

But now we are monsters

Forward

Suffering has a strange effect on people, kneeling to regret what’s real, to a god who cannot hear a word, from a world that never spoke a slur, to a fiend that never dreamed the truth, and never told the ruse

Hatred rises vibrant bright violet virus of silent purple circles under my eyelids hides dark horizons

I thought I was strong

I realize that’s not strength, that’s just suffering

That I was hardened by the flames of pain and hate, rather than burning in its isolation

That I was smelted in the fountain of hot smouldering cinders, winter stones and cold water, rather than

That my tongue was hammered together from an iron heart, rather than stone or gold

That I was welded by stellar monuments resilient as a mountain, resenting amalgams rather than

That I was honed by the grindstone to be sharp enough to cut myself on

And that I had been crafted to defend, rather destroy, or die defenceless

That I was born to suffer vorpal corporal punishment, rather than break like an ill-tempered blade

That I had been made well in the fires of hell, rather than fell from heaven

And was lucky enough to survive and photosynthesize in the sunlight, rather burn in the blight

That I wasn’t stronger because my wooden situation hadn’t been shaven to ashes

That I was wasn’t a hurricane of a human shuriken wailing in a gale

But that I had been tempered, like glass, tendered renderings of the cinders that were my kinsmen like flint-smith working birthing continuous, and I was lucky that the fire-hardened me, that I smelted like calluses, that the hammer didn’t shatter me, and forge hadn’t moulded me broken pieces, and that the grindstone sharped shards of my bones greases, that I had been crafted to outlast the Everest of masters, and wielded in the fields of battle, rather than discarded

The mantra of god pardons war-hardened bombardments of wanderers, as we are one; all followers

Of a different name, playing different trades, in the same game of eternity, yearning for forgiveness, let me give this hope to you, let me cope for you, let me hang my rope for all of you and myself

Missiles bristle the skin like a beard of mountains reaching to heaven, nirvana, Valhalla, let us reach them empeached with our emperor, content with our enlightenment, and lighten our contempt before the thunder and lightning rips asunder this island, and we drown

In hatred, choking on silence, mauling our mantras, bearing a miscarriage in our prayers

In hatred, cloaked in the dagger of the grave at the bottom of the earth, crushed under the weight of our nation

In hatred, I am saddened by it, it was pointless, we were brothers, we should love each other

But are paths aren’t the same, and we’re only human in name

In hatred, I will lead my friends, away from renegades, amalgamate reincarnated serenade serrated seraph for those who lost there way, death won’t lead them astray

In hatred, clench the jagged edge of redemption and cut our cadavers on the cultivated covenant of Solomon

Parting Armageddon, the black wolf of the death of gods

Pausing for a second to dissect me with its eyes

The wolf of Ragnarok, giving birth to fear I have yet to know

Cold shades of renegades





© 2019 R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)


Author's Note

R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)
I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

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Added on August 9, 2019
Last Updated on August 9, 2019
Tags: ragnarok, fenrir


Author

R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)
R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)

Burlington, Halton, Canada



About
For those who wonder why I have a silly username, I've been using this name because I find it funny. Potatoes are never really that sinister. The e on the end of potato is because I'm a potato with to.. more..

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