Election elixir

The cool Nordic blood boiled alongside
with the brain's bedraggled fuzziness
Vigga the Voelva stared and swore
that this last election of the alderman
to the village's highest court was
more than she grievously bargained for.
She walked straight to her sister's hut
from her own at the village's outskirt
over the stream along the winding way
finding the wise woman Sophia
bent over a seid brewing darkly.
Good afternoon sister - what ferments
in your iron cauldron  - blasted
in elfish furnaces - a plum-colored
pasticcio of a momentous severity?
Well met, my sister Vigga, voelva mine
I hatched a hell-bent Nordic nectar
to counter the confounded election.
If you drink this broth with froth
you will forget the elixir as well -
and your brain will utterly obscure
not only the option that anybody had -
but also the people's chilly choice,
So do you want it, sister mine?
Tempting - the Voelva wisecracked,
but not enough to loose my loathing.
What-fore are you doing this?
To obliterate the opinions
of the pesky villagers - so we can
tergiversate their thinking.
Vigga the Voelva took a breath
turned before her sister high-born Sophia
and exclaimed suavely tossing
her long reddish white hair back.
That is not the way to do it,
Sister mine- you will fall a fool.
You must not do it even if you wanted.
Throw it out - now - fate is cast
and you know it willfully well.
The election of the new alderman
is neither to your or my likening
but people have chosen - so
dark destiny is in their own hands.
Vigga the Voelva went away
her head held high from the hut
where her highborn sister weighed -
and then did what she had to do.
Yggdrasil was indulgently irrigated
and her morning's musings
were annihilated with anger
but this action assured she understood.
Vigga the Voelva had hindered
her highborn history to be hacked
whether for the benefit of fate
or for the demolition of  doom
it would come at the end
the world tree would absorb
the lack of wisdom and dirt
- down in the ground a part
of the root system stopped
but next to the death grew
a new beguiling beginning -
in a couple of years it would
see the light of the day.