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As the harvest withered

The red cloaked legions besieged

We invoked ancestral violence

One arm, one eye

Our armies fell as our wheat before

What’s left fled through sacred oak

I am your willing sacrifice

Savior of last resort

To break the invaders’ avarice

Unworthy imperator, deformed

They serve

I was not born to be buried in a barrow

Unblemished from birth

I’ve reached ritual age in the

Blackened year

The fires of Belanos herald

The triple death I desire

In a circle of crows

I ate of blackened bread

Twice my skull was split

Third, a strike for Taranis

For Esus garroted with sinew

Exsanguinated

Drowned in Teutates’ watery shrines

Now I sleep

My preservation in peat

Welcomed by gods

Leaving my leather envelope

Deep in Lindow Moss