🐍 Ormar Skaparans Ft. Panz (Pookie)🐍

Start with deep tagelharpa drone bowed in nordic ritual folk style for the intro, transition to the buildup for heavy frame drums and leather drums in slow ritualistic pace, then bass drop into arrogant agressive ominous male lead spoken word with ancient horns and low choir vocalize in old norse atmospheric folk style, shift to layered throat singing and female choir sustaining intense melisma for the breakdown, fill with hurdy-gurdy drone and bone flute for ominous ambience, hit a second drop of full choral vocalize with powerful male belting and deep brass horns in ritual folk style, and finally fade into tagelharpa drone and whispered male voice declaring doom for the outro

~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Youtube ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

https://www.youtube.com/@Alextheviking

~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Explanation ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This piece is, for me, a dialogue between two visions of destruction, two serpents whose movements shape the fate of worlds.
Written together with Pookie Panz, it weaves our voices into one ritual conversation: mine as Jörmungandr, the World Serpent that encircles Midgard, and his as Níðhöggr, the devourer who feeds on the roots of Yggdrasil.

In my verses, I speak from the depths of the sea, vast, patient, and inevitable. I wanted my words to carry the rhythm of tides and the poison of prophecy. Jörmungandr, for me, is not rage, but inevitability: the slow tightening of the world’s circle, the silence before the final wave.

Pookie’s writing rises from beneath the roots, dark, feverish, and full of hunger. Through his voice, Níðhöggr becomes decay made sacred, gnawing at what men call eternal, feeding on corruption, betrayal, and the false promise of order. His words are not chaos, but revelation, the truth buried beneath centuries of rot.

Together, we wanted these two forces to form a mirror: ocean and abyss, cycle and collapse.
We do not speak of good or evil, but of balance, that moment when creation and destruction become one.

For me, this piece is not mythology retold, but mythology remembered, spoken again through the language of death, earth, and return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Lyrics (Old Norse) ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Jarl's Verse]  
Ek em hringr, er fangar yðvarr lönd
inn endalausi baugr, er sjálfir æsir hræðask
Þórr lyptir hamri sínum
en jafnvel hann skelfr í draumum bitrar minnar
Andi minn er eitr
tǫnn mín er fyrirheit um endalok
Undir hverri bylgju sef ek
en er ek hrærist, hrynja strǫnd yðvarr
Ek em sær
hyldýpi ok svimi
ek nærist af skipum soknum
ok bænir yðvarar glatask í kviði mínum
því engi sleppir Miðgarðsormi

Þá er Ragnarǫk kemr
mun ek yfirgefa hafit til at rjúfa himin
ok hatr mitt brýtr fram sem svǫrt flóð
Ek em Jǫrmungandr Heimsbani
EK EM ENDIR Miðgarðs

[Pookie Panz's Verse]
ek em upphaf endans
ek er ormr hefnda
ek em sjálfr sjálfrveruætr
líkami minn brýtr saman váð himintjalda
í Hvergelmi et ek svikara, morðmenn ok tálmenn
ek nærist á sálum manna þeira er reknir eru ór náð Óðins
ek er svelgr yggdrasils
Dauði mun eigi bjarga þér frá hungri mínum

en þá er ragnark kemr verð ek lauss
ek em 
Níðhöggr

vit erum fornfrægð eða goðorð fornra tíma
vér erum ormar endalokanna
várr dagr mun koma en þú skalt óttast oss
ormar skaparans

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© 2025, DistroKid. All rights reserved Ásatrú Records. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Youtube ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ https://www.youtube.com/@Alextheviking ~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Explanation ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This piece is, for me, a dialogue between two visions of destruction, two serpents whose movements shape the fate of worlds. Written together with Pookie Panz, it weaves our voices into one ritual conversation: mine as Jörmungandr, the World Serpent that encircles Midgard, and his as Níðhöggr, the devourer who feeds on the roots of Yggdrasil. In my verses, I speak from the depths of the sea, vast, patient, and inevitable. I wanted my words to carry the rhythm of tides and the poison of prophecy. Jörmungandr, for me, is not rage, but inevitability: the slow tightening of the world’s circle, the silence before the final wave. Pookie’s writing rises from beneath the roots, dark, feverish, and full of hunger. Through his voice, Níðhöggr becomes decay made sacred, gnawing at what men call eternal, feeding on corruption, betrayal, and the false promise of order. His words are not chaos, but revelation, the truth buried beneath centuries of rot. Together, we wanted these two forces to form a mirror: ocean and abyss, cycle and collapse. We do not speak of good or evil, but of balance, that moment when creation and destruction become one. For me, this piece is not mythology retold, but mythology remembered, spoken again through the language of death, earth, and return. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~↓ Lyrics (Old Norse) ↓~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [Jarl's Verse] Ek em hringr, er fangar yðvarr lönd inn endalausi baugr, er sjálfir æsir hræðask Þórr lyptir hamri sínum en jafnvel hann skelfr í draumum bitrar minnar Andi minn er eitr tǫnn mín er fyrirheit um endalok Undir hverri bylgju sef ek en er ek hrærist, hrynja strǫnd yðvarr Ek em sær hyldýpi ok svimi ek nærist af skipum soknum ok bænir yðvarar glatask í kviði mínum því engi sleppir Miðgarðsormi Þá er Ragnarǫk kemr mun ek yfirgefa hafit til at rjúfa himin ok hatr mitt brýtr fram sem svǫrt flóð Ek em Jǫrmungandr Heimsbani EK EM ENDIR Miðgarðs [Pookie Panz's Verse] ek em upphaf endans ek er ormr hefnda ek em sjálfr sjálfrveruætr líkami minn brýtr saman váð himintjalda í Hvergelmi et ek svikara, morðmenn ok tálmenn ek nærist á sálum manna þeira er reknir eru ór náð Óðins ek er svelgr yggdrasils Dauði mun eigi bjarga þér frá hungri mínum en þá er ragnark kemr verð ek lauss ek em Níðhöggr vit erum fornfrægð eða goðorð fornra tíma vér erum ormar endalokanna várr dagr mun koma en þú skalt óttast oss ormar skaparans

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