Hammer of the godZ

You dare to ask why I write life into poetry?
Isn't it obvious, to create a self-image for all to see
Mjolnir in my hand brings forth the living lightning
Making rhymes for those in search of enlightening
Etch with your razor's edge, letters upon the writing-block
Paint for them your vision of the coming Ragnarock
Burn my demands in Commandments perfectly unclear
In songs tenfold for the stubborn deaf ear to hear
For there be Hella to pay and even more to fear
When the final stanza drips one last crimson tear
My word echoes under thunder-cracked whispered verse
Spoken with the promise of a Midgard-serpent's curse
Infinitely written paean from Alpha until Zed
By the voiceless collector of the cowardly dead
Silently writing to warn you of the coming dread
Pay close attention to each word I haven't said
How much more must pour in stains of cruor red
Before I have no more divine lambs blood left to shed
I will waste no more of my hallowed hammer's breath
Repeating foreshadows of a lonely tortured death
But spilling virgin ink upon the teller's snow white page
Draws unforeseen first blood from the wise old sage
For the blind now cannot read what their hearts no longer bleed
On shelves amid dust, as words from the past can never lead
Upon reflection you should be more careful what you ask of me
For words that spill from my mighty quill will shatter your vanity
Smashing the image so arrogantly gazing back at thee
I write to fight the mocking shadow cast by the id's duality
Now get out of my face else I impart your heart with all my dark morass
Begone forevermore from the confines of my muse's looking glass

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(jj johnson)