Brocken Spectre

(Lyrics written for the band hvíldarlauss dauðr and their forthcoming album)

 

brocken-spectre

 

Rich descendant of its

Poor and stupid ancestors.

Hoard-obsessed giant,

Arms wide on its mountain.

 

“Oh yes, I am the light.

A rainbow shines out of my face.

Shadow-cast your little minds with

Crazed joy – keep you in your place.”

 

We are of dust and mountain rock

Crumbling like ash and powder,

Scattered about like stars

On pitch black.

 

Feet fused with foundations of rock,

Too much time to roar and stare.

If its face had formed, it would have

Mouth contorted in a grimaced grin.

 

Delirium – you’re blind to its cloud-stride,

Trembling bones at laughter’s crack,

Shivering in spatters of cold rain.

Yet the little feeble chant comes back:

 

You are of mist and mountain rock

Crumbling like ash and powder,

Scattered about like stars

On pitch black.

 

(That poor mortal tragedy,

Necks bent, shuffling in the dark.

Overshadowed by the mountain giant,

Ever crawling through the mud.)

 

Poor giant, as the light dims,

This light illusion blurs and breaks –

The cloud shifts, disturbed and rolling,

Pierced through by jagged peaks.

 

It ends, curled up, foetal,

Imagining its mother’s arms

But falling through dispersing fog

Turning to a broken ghost.

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Brocken Spectre

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