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Glory and the Viking Lord
-] Glory and the Viking Lord [-
“Ulir ok Víkingr Freyr”
Part I - Omens From Odin
A Viking lord of fame and repute, did sail the northern seas,
The skull of a dragon was the cup from which his lips drank.
From east to west, his vessel roamed; hard waves did tease!
All the gods of the ocean did him honor, his ship never sank.
In all of the mid-world’s vastness no port of call was a home,
To one whose love was adventure, and ever forth did roam!
Where the moon’s chariot is driven, his eyes have been led…
And where the sun’s light is drawn, his curiosity was oft fed.
Until to the wells beyond maelstroms deep, his course drew,
Nigh unto destruction, when the stormy winds violently blew.
Long he walked in places beyond the ken of moral thought…
Even unto the cold realms where the dead souls are brought,
By those who choose the slain, and render them a final fate!
Ravens twin did he oft spy, fearing it was for him far too late.
No divine shield maiden would take him, lest he fall in battle,
And it was others who, by his red ax, suffered death’s rattle.
Omens from Odin on high, for good or ill no man could say,
Save when the time of destiny, made ready to have its’ way.
But from death was he delivered, and unto a paradise found,
Somewhere west of west: on an island far above the ground.
No vessel of mortal make brought him hither, but so divine…
That the maid who steered it was a being outside of all time!
Part II - The Floating Isle
Trees grew there upon that isle, in a garden tended by giants,
As there the Viking lord walked, seeking only he knew what.
He pondered many a massive stone, in circular monuments…
Hoping they held the key, to the treasure he relentless sought.
The maid whose vessel took him hither, her name was Glory,
Who tired of waiting: for this mortal to read the stones’ story.
So wandering she took him, and they wandered that domain,
The floating isle forbidden: where no treasure, could any gain.
Not any giant would test its’ might against this human guest…
And only knowledge could they offer, for those upon a quest.
The Viking lord, to the seas of the mid-world he did return…
With but a single scroll held fast in a grip that did as iron burn.
No man living knows to where that scroll did take the Viking,
Only that nevermore was he seen, in all the lands of the living!
Save one final time, of which this tale shall tell the full account,
But first we see the maiden plagued by wanderlust and doubt.
And so the maid named Glory becomes she we must sing of,
For her journey was beginning, from the isle in the sky above.
Seeking secret magicks, she found the tall horned-skull door,
Somewhere in deepest Africa, in that ancient city called Kor.
Once they called her goddess there, by vastly older names…
Whilst her loyal high priestess, tended the sacred blue flames!
Part III - Starlight and Glory
Now only the remnants of the golden city, did Glory witness,
Finding no trace of the people who once raised her esteem…
For dusk had come unto Kor in a long-gone hour of distress.
Of the treasures laid at her feet of old, her crown did gleam…
From where it sat upon the broken altars empty of all jewels.
Naught else remained to find, and all who sought were fools!
Crown in hand, the maid left the ruins of her once-great city,
And returned to her island in the sky, and her tower of ivory.
She ruled there alone, whilst the seasons came and vanished,
Until the Viking lord returned from where he was banished…
And the two ascended to the void wherein the stars glimmer.
On a craft of blazing metal shining as silver that will shimmer!
Amidst the starlight, the goddess loved the mortal so intense,
That the man’s flesh could not withstand her naked brilliance.
There, the Viking died in the arms of Glory and was content,
When she steered the vessel into the sun, in a final sentiment.
In such an honored way, did the Viking lord pass to his rest!
Whilst Glory escaped in a smaller craft to her island so blest.
As dawn rose above the flying isle, an ivory tower did shine,
Whilst another mortal made his way: into that domain, divine.
Eternal is her vigil, and many come to her throne, all to seek,
The secrets of the universe: of which, a Viking had one peek.
“Ulir ok Víkingr Freyr”
Part I - Omens From Odin
A Viking lord of fame and repute, did sail the northern seas,
The skull of a dragon was the cup from which his lips drank.
From east to west, his vessel roamed; hard waves did tease!
All the gods of the ocean did him honor, his ship never sank.
In all of the mid-world’s vastness no port of call was a home,
To one whose love was adventure, and ever forth did roam!
Where the moon’s chariot is driven, his eyes have been led…
And where the sun’s light is drawn, his curiosity was oft fed.
Until to the wells beyond maelstroms deep, his course drew,
Nigh unto destruction, when the stormy winds violently blew.
Long he walked in places beyond the ken of moral thought…
Even unto the cold realms where the dead souls are brought,
By those who choose the slain, and render them a final fate!
Ravens twin did he oft spy, fearing it was for him far too late.
No divine shield maiden would take him, lest he fall in battle,
And it was others who, by his red ax, suffered death’s rattle.
Omens from Odin on high, for good or ill no man could say,
Save when the time of destiny, made ready to have its’ way.
But from death was he delivered, and unto a paradise found,
Somewhere west of west: on an island far above the ground.
No vessel of mortal make brought him hither, but so divine…
That the maid who steered it was a being outside of all time!
Part II - The Floating Isle
Trees grew there upon that isle, in a garden tended by giants,
As there the Viking lord walked, seeking only he knew what.
He pondered many a massive stone, in circular monuments…
Hoping they held the key, to the treasure he relentless sought.
The maid whose vessel took him hither, her name was Glory,
Who tired of waiting: for this mortal to read the stones’ story.
So wandering she took him, and they wandered that domain,
The floating isle forbidden: where no treasure, could any gain.
Not any giant would test its’ might against this human guest…
And only knowledge could they offer, for those upon a quest.
The Viking lord, to the seas of the mid-world he did return…
With but a single scroll held fast in a grip that did as iron burn.
No man living knows to where that scroll did take the Viking,
Only that nevermore was he seen, in all the lands of the living!
Save one final time, of which this tale shall tell the full account,
But first we see the maiden plagued by wanderlust and doubt.
And so the maid named Glory becomes she we must sing of,
For her journey was beginning, from the isle in the sky above.
Seeking secret magicks, she found the tall horned-skull door,
Somewhere in deepest Africa, in that ancient city called Kor.
Once they called her goddess there, by vastly older names…
Whilst her loyal high priestess, tended the sacred blue flames!
Part III - Starlight and Glory
Now only the remnants of the golden city, did Glory witness,
Finding no trace of the people who once raised her esteem…
For dusk had come unto Kor in a long-gone hour of distress.
Of the treasures laid at her feet of old, her crown did gleam…
From where it sat upon the broken altars empty of all jewels.
Naught else remained to find, and all who sought were fools!
Crown in hand, the maid left the ruins of her once-great city,
And returned to her island in the sky, and her tower of ivory.
She ruled there alone, whilst the seasons came and vanished,
Until the Viking lord returned from where he was banished…
And the two ascended to the void wherein the stars glimmer.
On a craft of blazing metal shining as silver that will shimmer!
Amidst the starlight, the goddess loved the mortal so intense,
That the man’s flesh could not withstand her naked brilliance.
There, the Viking died in the arms of Glory and was content,
When she steered the vessel into the sun, in a final sentiment.
In such an honored way, did the Viking lord pass to his rest!
Whilst Glory escaped in a smaller craft to her island so blest.
As dawn rose above the flying isle, an ivory tower did shine,
Whilst another mortal made his way: into that domain, divine.
Eternal is her vigil, and many come to her throne, all to seek,
The secrets of the universe: of which, a Viking had one peek.
Published 4th Nov 2011
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