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XO Tour Llif3 Blues.

These dark woods strayed amidst,
no turning likelier than another,
my signals multiply-Hertz'd
these dark woods strayed. Amidst
such fathoms filched
came to a great merle there,
these dark woods. Strayed amidst
no turning likelier than. Another?

Stormy Sailing.

"...Regal crimson court stands
corbie-clad in mourning;
noble gift-friend fallen
fell Death's thegn has slain him.
Sword trees white girth'd sturdy
stumble adzed like lumber;
wine-dark drink of war hawks
wends to pools unending.
Death-thane thrives on darkness

delves for souls twelve score
Rannveig's great sword righteous
raised gainst death's blade saves us..."

--Thomas Ireland-Delfs, "Dróttkvætt or That Old Norse Poetry Thing"

The Werewolf.