I know I hung on a windy trunk

All nine nights, wounded by thorns

On the trunk grown out of roots

Of a tree unknown to me



I know I looked down, learnt runes

Screaming I collapsed into its shadows

I learnt nine mighty spells

Read out of the ancient stones



Fed on hate, drunk with blood of the dead

I started being produced

And growing up with power



(One word for the second found the third for me

One deed for the second was searching

For the third for me)



I spread terror and pain, torture and death

In this strange place of the end my time had come

Tired with ruling the evil I'm freezing

Like a bird braided between branches