From the Mist, (Of Niflheim). Part Deux

As I sit and rock
Subconsciously
Back and forth in
the chair

Humming some eerie
little rune that I
got from, I don't
know where

I cannot see but,
feel the effect
that the rising
vapors of
"Nifelheim," have
on my well-being

I feel them inside
changing, re-arranging,
mentally-shifting me
My eyes grow dark in
their sockets around
The skin around them
dark too, like I haven't
had sleep in weeks
Like mascara, it looks
as though it's running
and bleeding down
my cheeks

My face grows ghostly
pale
Looks downcast and
Gaunt
As though I've got
some terminal, physical
Illness
I may be one foot in the
grave but, it's not for
some bodily sickness

No, these mists rising-up
now steadily from the Abyss
of blackness
Are feeding my being and
Changing
its likeness
I had entered into the gates
of darkness and am now
taking on the appearance of
a resident of, "Hel,"
And now drink-in from that
eternal well

The torments and pangs received
here, our like a whips lashing
I can feel my teeth gnashing
like on, X
And my former memories
Passing
Away
Into the atmospheric bleakness of
this place

A billion-billion stories echoes
and moans from its walls
Down its corridors and in its
great halls