This morning I dreamt a dream of battles
I dreamt that a warrior was born
This morning as Thor lifts his hammer
he hallows my hearth's door
I dream of a hero
lifting chariots of iron
and rushing to save his clan
I dream of protection
and dread that I need it
man too is the dread of man
A bluish ice-shield
with spells I chant
a mighty wall made of runes
It keeps my foes outside
but it also imprisons and wounds
I belong to a tribe of poets
dispersed through Midgard and Time
So few of my brethren I know
that I might as well have no tribe
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
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