A raging beast I've become,

crush that rock with my bare palm,

I emerge from a broken landscape,

promises of brighter future dance on,

my blood-soaked, salty, sweat-dripping lips;

too raw,

powerful,

for soft peers,

an outcast thrown out,

of he broken institutions,

of the white towers,

and all their failure.

 

I crawl,

powerfully,

not pathetically,

slow and steady,

an ascent against odds,

far past improbability,

balancing on the edge of possibility.

 

You should question where that places you,

fragile-sanity girls, and broken-ego ex-lovers,

and apathetic strangers who watch the tides turn,

while never being the reason.

 

Tides turn at the will of a tremendous beast,

of power unforeseen since ancient Asgardian myths,

Jotunn, who will not be stopped by the melt of glaciers,

super-nova sun, global warming, be damned for your impotence.

 

Some things will not end,

human,

some thing will not end,

despite your limited imagination,

highlighting all your ineptitudes and flaws,

culminating in an incredible parade of suck.

 

To err,

is indeed,

to be human.