The Wheel

The Wheel

Past the vast forest filled with beasts and plagued by fog
Past the great desert being washed away by storms
Through the obsidian gate that goes past the sky
Into the bone hordes

Dive deep, deep through the ribs and past the skulls
Fall into the chamber where the bone pickers lie
They tend to their cauldrons and wait for their kin
To pick apart and reform again

But it is not them you are here for, it is for her
She asks if you are ready, and takes you through the bones
Your back is cut on rips and spines, skin shredded and left behind
But it is all worth it for what you find

A spinning wheel in a cavern its own, standing atop a pile of bones
She takes you to it and asks you to spin, to find out just what is within
Fate in hand you take your seat, turning the wheel you cease to think
Spinning for her and your seiðr

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