Some say it is a dish best eaten cold, but not
An option for your nature, is it? Plan and plot
But always you are leaping wildfire hot.
Marcus Aurelius said the best revenge
Is to be unlike Odin — excuse me, be unlike
The one who dealt the injury, in this case, Odin.
That doesn’t help. (And he was first to strike.)
Others say when you plan revenge to dig two graves.
You did that. He is bound as much as you.
But maybe there were smoother ways to go,
You bound your own pain ever open too.
For oaths will only bind the honour-bound
Which Odin never was, not that I heard
He goes for his advantage every time.
You at least kept the letter of your word.
All right, you did kill Baldur, his best son.
But who’d have thought he’d go this far for it?
He’d got your children too, all three of them.
…But did this really help the slightest bit?
You can’t make people want you, you can make
Them do things, sometimes, but desire
Of any kind, for anything, is inside them,
And not compellable by ice or fire.
I’m sorry. I have also snarled on this
Too often, and with less excuse than you,
And lies and cunning mostly make it worse,
We have to face it that it’s really true.
Some people say revenge is living well —
I’ve found it sometimes works to go away
And be more awesome. Let him sit alone,
To watch your wildfires leaping as you play.
Of course, you’re still alone, and you still care.
But honestly, in time may come new gods.
(I found one, though I never thought I would
A better one than him.) There are some odds.
And even grimly going on and on
Can work, because of petty joys that life
(I’m not a Viking) showers freely down,
Creating, conversation, trees, fresh strife.
You think you’re equals, but that isn’t so.
You’re better than he is. Like yourself more.
You’re worth it, and he’s such a selfish prick.
Go do new things, burn brighter than before.
It hurts to think of you a ball of hate
Waiting to burn the whole world down to black
Just because Odin sucks. Let go and weep,
Heal Yggdrasil, get free, then don’t look back.