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Hagalaz
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Heathenry Hail battering my window
Cold is the fight against clarity
A sky grain dropping down
Blanketing fields, homes, lives
Leaving a gleaming crust about
Like purity discarded and alone
Left to fend for itself against a sun
Which will surely come burn away
And the storm slackens, dies
The ice-fire quenched
Wind grows tired and lags
Leaving silence in the slickening
But the dreamer is warm
Encased and safe and will walk again
Weathered perhaps, but wiser
