In a Word or Two, Sigyn Must Live

In a Word or Two, Sigyn Must Live

Sigyn Ina Gjata the house of twigs guest author witchraft northern magick

In a word or two, Sigyn must live.

How can she wait to be seen by a God who sins?!

In a word or two, It must be seen; when love goes missing, no mischief nor enchantment can revive the death of the blood feathers.

Let it be under a Blood Moon when Loki betrayed the Gods. When he sinned against Love the very creator. I don’t think I could ever understand why it happened, or what Loki was thinking. But it came to an end. A verdict.


I could leave as the past dies.

How can we move on if the past doesn’t die?

For me, it is dead and transmitted in Hades’s realms.

Page after page. I had to meet with Hades, to understand and see you as you are. Lost, completely lost, in the endless vibes of defeat. Love and relationships are no mortal chess figures. But for you, they are. Since you lost me in the Heavens and tried to get me here, in Hade’s kingdoms. I would have left a thousand times without the regret of leaving Loki behind.

Impotence is a state of defeat and self-denial. Inside the chaos of no meaning at all, vulgar existence within the clothing of survival precedes. I know Loki would think there are always other ways to be, but there aren’t. What divides worlds is the understatement, with or without the process or trial.

Strength moves tides, but dead tides are worn out as the Ladies of The Swamp sing their chorus.

I enter and leave Sigyn’s skin. I am her sometimes and then I become the third person demystifying the myth.

Serpentine poison burn’s Loki’s skin, as it was the first time to be met with his essential substance.

It might not be erotic, but it is eternally poetic. As Sigyn tries to protect him, she comes to oversee that the poison and Loki were deeply connected, by Karma let it be, or by the songs of the Serpentines pit.

And the white Serpentine speaks… It looks like she is not spiting poison but another substance, another substance belonging to transformation.

Pit after pit, his skin burns, and Loki’s eyes turn bright green. Sigyn tries to save him, but she knows it would be right to leave. Instead.. she stays to learn more about the white serpentine verses of poison which turned out to be .. poetic? Rightfully there?

Instead of punishing Loki, the white snake is burning his old deeds, trying to transform him into a rightful God as he was created to be. A fact and motive he forgot…Sigyn knew the laws of worlds and the laws of sin, but this poison that gave her lover terrible pain was terrifically eye-opening.

As the substance of sin.

They were the same but their form of use changed; As it changed Loki.

What does the sinful individual feel excerpt the exhilarating force of pain?

I know what Sigyn feels, I don’t understand the figure of the sinner, not yet.

The sinner could die, could pass the whole pain process as it kills him and revives him again and again.

The foundations of time are not impotent but strictly changeable.

The edge.

The gap.

The false projection is just that false. Colors do not change. When you project yourself to be someone you can’t afford to be the edge absorbs you.

As the pitfalls from all sides. Sigyn can’t ask Loki to see her, as the Goddess of Beauty, nor as to the Immortal, she is. She can’t ask anything as he lies in the impotence of his sin. She can of course attend the process as serpentine poison falls and burns him. Again. Again. Again.

Love has never been of substantial use because she is the creator of all substances and their reactions, into the collective seas.

Morals or not morals Sigyn sees the Serpentine grandiosely sitting in her throne feeding terror to Loki and not only.

Poison pit after poison pit…

The poison falls into Lokis’s skin. It doesn’t stop falling. Sigyn might be terrified but the trial was set and the process is being performed. Theatrically right!

The pain is extravagantly performative!

She shows where the past of sin dies to be met with the impotence of the present. The serpentine might be a dragoness soon while she and Sigyn share the same blood and power, performing two different roles; As Loki plays the dead.

I don’t know how it will end, or if this was the end of a love story, but the wheel of Time has been conquered by the Gods as Loki is.

The tragedy of sin is a transformative process, but the heaviness of one’s ill will put Loki in the mouth of the serpent!

Sigyn sings the night chorus while holding the vessel to protect Loki from the poison but she is not willing to change the will of the Gods.

Time is trickier than you are Loki and blindness brings only defeat while you are stuck in your impotence: The Serpentine whispered.

Many birds sing through the night and day. Birds of death, birds of prey, owls, and carnivorous birds. Their voice visits Loki’s rooms of mind… they call and they call but absence holds her space between this present of torture the past of love with Sigyn in the Heavens Above. Different birds used to sing there, different was the sight of Sigyn as she flew with her Dragons to come and meet Loki. Now the torture of the poison reciting her verses in his skin tries to make a statement. A statement of loss, ritually being repeated. His lover once took the verdict of falling with him.. protecting him from every drop of poison… but she was going to rise without him. Loss is not as ideal as Beauty, isn’t it?

A theater of the vulgar, that’s what he had left, that’s what he wanted, that’s what he got. And even in this position of suffering while Sigyn stands protecting him, Loki fails to see her.  Teratornis the bird of prey sing as a past of Love leaves his skin timelessly. It leaves shivering as the Serpentine spits drops of poison. Loss?

But Sigyn can’t leave, Lokis thinks: ”She is my other half”. But she leaves and a trail of golden rays follow her as feathers of blood follow.

Did the past just die?- Loki thinks.

Indeed, it died as the wheel turns and the poison keeps burning him with no one left to hold the vessel.


This is by guest author Ina Gjata

Ina Gjata is a Moon lover, journalist, art critic, painter, life lover. Passionate about the wild feminine and wild creatures. She doesn’t do well with system rules, regulations, and lies. A born rebel being, she believes real truth is inside us all and that writing is a piece of the great truth, meant to be told, and manifested.



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This work by The House of Twigs / Author of Article is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.