Hel's Desires

Laying down, on starvation,
against her horrid table
with those demigods watching,
lost in the saving graces.
Lie awake, think of all the worries,
following you to the pit,
where the slaughtered roam,
and the memories and,
the thoughts cannot be obtained.
Decaying knives stab in,
taunting you with hunger
in a foreboding hell.
Sacred spells, forestall the death,
delighted in this guise,
of ancient deities who rule,
and banish ones,
to the dark region of the dead.
Every direction, every precaution,
cannot elude the punishment
with the venom, dripping down,
causing the cries of the slain,
to hide beneath the shadow of the sun
as the earth trembles
from the loss and the pain.

A/N: If you know alot, or even a little, about Norse mythology, then you should be able to see the significance this poem has to Norse mythology. And I wrote it like that because I'm Norwegian. Okay, Im done babbling.