The Speech Of The High One
I know I hung on that windswept tree,
Swung there for nine long nights,
Wounded by my own blade,
Bloodied for Odinn,
Myself and offering to myself:
Bound to the tree
That no man knows
Wither the roots of it run.
The Speech Of The High One
I know I hung on that windswept tree,
Swung there for nine long nights,
Wounded by my own blade,
Bloodied for Odinn,
Myself and offering to myself:
Bound to the tree
That no man knows
Wither the roots of it run.