An old and Ancient God

I saw a mesmeric of stars gleaming in the night sky.
An unheard voice whispered to me stories of ancient
dreams.
Of bulls and swans and mighty deeds, of bears and
ploughs, and all such things as these.
The heavens, the Hades of warring Gods, the stars
the campfires of their hosts.
A tortured spirit tossed and turned; an aerial hunter
knocked his bow. The Asa and Vana sundered the
night.
Many seats would be filled in great halls, mead to flow
cup and horn. Dogs bark at their passing,
wolves howled at the moon.
Fields of slain to fill the bards songs. Crows hop and
peck at gutted corpse, heads roll on blood slicked
grass.
Maids weep as many passed, but there in the void,
an old and ancient god, Odin One eye on his seat,
gorged with souls, his frenzy replete.