hel

Loki's daughter

Vacancy in her eyes and the blood on her lips are the tell tale sign she has left.

Chattering teeth and crawling flesh are the sounds that have taken her last breath.

Go no where fast and go no where slow for it is the night that keeps her silent as the half of her sleeps and the other half grows.

She's always late and always early as the grass is her ground and her ceiling.

Bones bare and fingers wrapped still in flesh, her mind is ticking while your heart was laid to rest.

Seed the earth with half a pound of rotting life as above the crown of that hollow ground the skin does dance, does live.

Charming chants and echoing emptiness are her fancy and her dress.