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