Hail To You, Hela
by Michaela Macha
Hail to you, Hela,
Grandmother Death.
Silent your wisdom, yours my last breath.
Reading our wyrd in cobwebs and lace,
Ancestor´s hostess, grant us your grace.
Hail to you, Hela, ender of strife.
Half fair, half rotten, mirror of life.
Cool is your comfort, equal for all.
Highways and alleys end in your hall.
Hail to you, Hela, Lady of Dust.
All wyrd will ever go as it must.
Carving our way on the edge of a knife,
Éljúðnir´s Mistress, teach us of life.
© Michaela Macha
This poem is in the Common Domain
and may be freely distributed provided it remains unchanged, including
copyright notice and this License.
