My Writings


Depraved. Just a walking corpse.

I must rise from the dirt womb, by my own strength, heart shining like a sun. There are ugly voices in my head. When I silence them, when I learn to look forward, and to see, in full gratitude, I will finally be able to hear you.

That road I had to pave for myself. Only a few steps long, everyday, upon waking up, stepping outside, it leads me in the same direction, only a few feet. I stare into the same horizon, somehow different in each sunset. At the end of each day I stare deep into its limits, and the dark stares back at me.

I dared not look at it for the longest time. From the empty mists, a familiar silence. A rallying call of a horn sending shivering lightning down my spine. Hagal. The one I used to dread the most. But now, relentlessly, its tortured brother, the worst of all fates, Nauthiz, hangs above my head.

Mother, my light of mind is dim, only strong enough to understand that not even pain lasts forever.


Related posts

My Writings

The Innkeeper

My eyes, at the foot of the great mountain, shot an arrow into the heights where its peaks disappear into fine mist. And longed to cli...

My Writings


To live embraced by warmth is wealth. I am rich. I have hot water for a bath. But its luxury feels distant and unfamiliar, still. I am...