My only regret,
is that I did not
weep for them.
Surely, I owe them that much.
But I am Viking;
I am rock,
and steel and stone.
I have never seen
rock weep.
Nor steel or stone.
No,
I know no tears;
only vengeance.
I know only swords
and shields
and a rage
that carried my feet for miles
until I found them.
Rage
as vast
as the icy sea
and squeezed
into my battle cries.
Yet,
my love for them
is vaster still;
love for the family
they've stolen from me.
With due haste,
steel met flesh
and I made their blood
to scorch the earth beneath.
My halo;
my scarlet curls
flitting about my face in the wind,
are like the flames
they made to consume the ones I love.
I heard my child's screams
as I had before.
My husband called out to me
from the memory
and my anger answered.
And I became a storm;
wrenching limb and head from torso
until I stood admist
a field of carcasses
and welcomed the echo
of vultures in the distance.
The sound of the sea
calls me to my home
across the waters
and there is stillness in my heart
at last.
A hunger
having been well fed;
a thirst
quenched.
Odin's wrath
can nary rival that
of a Viking woman
wronged.
_________________________________________________________________
Nothing wrong with a little imagination every once in a while.
I thought of a red headed viking lady...
X Chyna
