Poems From The Nordlands, W.R. Waddell [feel good novels txt] 📗
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- Author: W.R. Waddell
Book online «Poems From The Nordlands, W.R. Waddell [feel good novels txt] 📗». Author W.R. Waddell
The Golden Halls
I have fallen upon the field of battle
Yet I feel happy and proud
As I died beside my brothers, sword in hand.
The einherjer, the ones who fell
Are carried forth by Valkyrjur
Out of death, Into immortality.
I feel no more pain
As i ride into the heavens
With my brothers beside me once more.
The somber, dark grey clouds of Midgard dissipate
And the golden halls are revealed to us
And we know we shall live forever.
Many men that I had known
Await us in the golden halls
As we shall wait
For the ones who shall follow
Though they do not fall this day.
We sit in a grand company
Of great warriors and kings,
Each of whom had met a hero's fate.
To the Norsemen who live on, know this
We einherjer will watch over you
Until the valkyries sweep you to us
And we can be together once more,
In the Golden Halls of Valhalla.
Lord Odin watch over you all,
Until each of you may join us
In his mighty company.
Written By
W.R. Waddell
Copyright 1314 Productions
2009
No Turning Back
Thunder rolls across the sky,
The rain comes down, a ceaseless maelstrom,
Forks of lightning split the grey,
Land is nought but a memory.
We push ever onward,
Further from home,
Dark skies above and dark waters below,
The rhythmic grunting of the oarsmen
We fight against the storm.
Hungry and cold we sail,
Weak and weary we sail,
For gold and glory we sail,
The runes spoke of victory.
Through whipping winds and lashing rain,
We descend from the North.
We come to conquer.
Written by
W.R. Waddell
Copyright 1314 Productions
2010
The Return - A Warrior's Heart
Farewell, My Darling,
You knew this time would come,
I must leave the warmth of your bed, your arms,
With the coming of the new day sun,
To sail South, across the water,
Look after our son, and teach well our daughter,
We sail for Alba, swords and spears in hand,
For gold and glory, for steel and slaughter.
The men will share their stories of deeds so true and bold,
Of frost- eyed celtic maidens with their hair of sparkling gold,
Of brothers we have lost, and of fortunes we have won,
But my thoughts return over the sea, to You,
When the battle is done.
In the chill air of darkest night,
When the campfire dies, and only the stars give light,
The warm thoughts in my mind will get me through,
Of the glory of our victory, and of my return to You.
So it's o'er those icy seas I go,
To meet my death? I cannot know,
But should we survive, pray All-Father that we do,
We shall sail back t'ward the North,
And I will come back home to you.
Written by
W.R. Waddell
Copyright 1314 Productions
2012
Text: Copyright 1314 Productions 2012
Images: Shutterstock.com
Publication Date: 12-21-2009
All Rights Reserved
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