Heimdall blows the mighty horn,
As Loki reaches near.
His troops and army of the dead,
Yet the gods will never fear.
It all starts in the winter,
Ever so cold it was said.
As the gods reach Vigrid a norn;
To them appear to whisper in Odin's ear.
Now the battle must begin.
Frey the first Aseir,
To fall from Surtr's wrath and fear.
Odin then face the mighty boy Frenir.
Slowly he must fall as well,
As all mighty men do.
Vidar finds this mighty swell,
And takes his leather shoe;
To rip apart the giant jaw;
Of Frenir the killer of whom?
Heimdall then had saw,
Everything in sight;
And realized these buffoons.
He the last of many gods he saw fall too.
Loki then arise from the bloody sea of doom.
To kill the mighty Heimdall and think this the end.
Both must fall for this to be.
Both are dead and that now leaves the tree.
In the trunk of the tree leave a couple that had a hunch.
They the only two soon to create a bunch.
Thor's mighty sons,
Are still alive how SUS.
Balder and hod arise from dust.
They find the pieces of a game;
They knew had been a bust.
Now they fit the pieces as God's to be framed.
This will soon to be the overall;
Game that made us.
A chest game was known for one.
Magni,
Modi,
Vidar,
Vali,
Balder,
Hod,
The only left Aseir.
Life,
And life's yearning the only mortals here.
The new world had just begun and Idavoll will appear.
This leaves us with the final eight.
The beloved beginning to the ends near.
YOU ARE READING
|°Simply Structure°|
PoetryPoetry has always completely held me together. It's kind like how you breathe oxygen. It's something I have to do. Poetry is something like oxygen to me. Without it I wouldn't survive. ~ remember love is a crime and I'll do the time for loving what'...
