Realm Of Frost

The bitter grasp of primordial darkness
A clutching winter's chill
One of the nine, devoid of the sublime
A harsh wind echoes a shrill
Beckoning mist upon frosted ground
Near where water yet flows through
A realm of the frozen, where warmth meets corrosion
Is tightnened against a great root.

Bleak mountains house a stone ageless in form
The trees serving as elders, stand untorn
Home for the sick and disnonoured, a frigid retreat
A pinnacle of creation, the ice as a sheet.

The stream of hvergalmir at the rivers' source
Where cold finds its' birthplace, and grows its' force
The skies bleak and clouded, erode the light
An echo of harsh persistence, narrates the night.

Behold the bitter chill of the
Northern plains of Niflheim
The wrath of nordic blizzards
Pierce what can be seen
A veil of glacial shadow long covers this world
An eternity of numbing continues to be unfurled.

In the human world, autumn makes it's rest
The end of a season, smothered by frigid crest
Leaves fall in unison, never again to rise
The calling voice of arctic plains reveal their size
Snow carpets land, turning soil to white
Beings begin to dwell beneath and out of sight
Life no longer thrives as nature once allowed
A pledge now made, a season fades, a start of a new vow

Smothered rivers, biting shivers, oak dead to the touch
Hidden roots, spoiled fruits, life held in a clutch
Paths once trodden, now forgotten, conceal a journey's truth
All is still and bends to will, new growth is chained to youth.