Ć¾ingvellir Park, Iceland

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Rugged lines, ragged rocks,
The moss and grass can’t mute the years
Of violent heavings ere Vikings sailed
Or man appeared to make his mark.

Ancient forces issued forth
From deep within the darkened earth;
Hardened ice and heavy snow
Crumbled soil and crushed boulders.

Pangs of twisting, pains of sin
Convulse the planet, vain in purpose,
World and man awash in madness,
Their beauty fading, burning to ashes.