Red in the field,
red on my hands,
warrior of legends,
scourge of realms.
For no one I yield,
I’m king of their lands,
the whip of their fiends,
they obey my commands.
Valhalla was my godsend,
I dreamed of its viands,
but it’s not how my story ends,
my axe is in quicksands.
My daughter I must defend,
a wanderer seized her strands,
snatched her from her friends,
Nidhoggr hear my demands.
I was told the bastard died,
but my Freydis is found nowhere,
my soul I sell to you in exchange
of ripping out of his her whereabouts;
Valhalla will forever wait,
Odin now hates my guts.
Vipers of Nastrond, meet my axe,
you are on my way, prepare to die,
you’ll be no more and I’ll get my prey,
my fury is greater than my sacrifice;
the afterlife now sings my new name
Battleaxe cuts to shreds, turns to dust.
Red on the evil,
red in my eyes,
terror of sagas,
monster of fights.
For no one I bend it,
I’m dread to their hearts,
my offspring I owe to,
the rest ain’t my parts.
Odin, I know I’m now forsaken,
but Freydis at Asgard will arrive,
this I promise, my word is blood,
on his Nidhoggr has complied,
I’ll find my daughter, save her life,
and at the end you better bless her…
….or you’ll face hell’s new god,
BATTLEAXE.
© Syl R. Martin