The huge blue skies hung, skanky
With Lord Thor’s last thunderbolts
Flung godhot from Asgard’s heights.
The wine-dark oceans wandered
Dizzying depths, carved the coasts
With Neptune’s terrible tongue.
The misty mountains trembled
At deities’ deathless tread,
Peaks crumbling like crushed paper.
Now, we behold beliefless
Beauty, damned distant echoes
Of archangels in our ears.
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