Helten's Song (Mythical Series Song of Remorse and Joy)

There I lay in this boat,

Arms crossed pure I float,

Votives each round the frame,

Sails half-mast surrounding cay,

As mortals, which still myself do I claim,

Watch until sea touches flame,

For mankind I travel this journey’s end,

Times of never ending peace, I pray for thee,

That from my smoke truth does awake,

And from my life, what’s left to give,

I pray you all grow old and live,

Make generations of men,

Generations more of women,

Live long and peaceful,

Yet always living in each your hearts,

The richness within tradition,

All the while living with Viking conviction,

Helten, Son of Loki and a mortal maid,

A thousand and thousands more,

Breathed Viking air eternal,

With bravery and a tongue to wit,

A blessed soul with immortal lines,

Yet war he waged in Asgaard’s honor,

Less he knew of his own tie to it,

For glory, and honor,

For violence or for peaceful ends,

His service, his devotion,

His vigor and emotion,

He loved with passion,

And swung his axe towards ill reactions,

Yet peace was what he desired,

More so than the calling battle craves,

The scent of flesh unwrapped into the air,

The feel of dust colliding in the air,

The no time for sympathy in the field,

The memories over spirits shared,

Helten, was all and more of these,

Helten the brave was he,

Thanks to Loki for his loins,

Thanks be to those Gods in the sky,

Watching, waiting, protecting, rewarding,

He the gift from immortals love,

 
Let mankind take notice now,

Let Helten’s service teach us well,

Each shall take their own memento,

But none should forget his cry to battle,

Men, my limbs, my friends,

Fight beside you now I will,

Until victory or lack of breath,

Tonight, I look very much

Towards feast and lust,

But more should we take from him,

His civility towards all,

Viking, man, creature or barbarian,

Learn we all his rarest gift,

Remember close how he would say,

My clan, my brothers,

This is our land, this the Gods have agreed,

We should honor them in the sky,

In our memories and through our lives,

But the God’s would not stand for idle death,

One man down, ten thousand tears will fall,

In such I urge you all,

Do not fight for fighting’s sake,

Do not let ignorance your grave mistake,

Observe the field before you plunder,

Identify the who and what,

Prior to filling the sky with blood,

Only once your scope is honed,

And in your heart there can be no other tone,

Then we as one shall roar,

And war remember, is like life,

Brevity in duty leads to longevity of night,

So attack with might, May you allows,

Seek their spot so soft and meek,

And ram your sword down throats of these,

Helten shall burn this night,

Tonight he shall journey his final flight,

Tomorrow as you look up in the sky,

Over the nine our hero, I assure will be watching,

Hordes of Viking warriors,

Hordes of Viking men,

Raise you blades towards the sky,

And with your blades laud him high,

And allow one heroes legacy,

Live ages longer and many more,

Let his lessons teach and give,

And permeate the annals of Viking lore,

Viking men, old and young,

Remember dear the song Helten sung.

Many Moons Removed, Word Comes From the Village (Mythic Series Volume Three)

Seven paces from the crevice,

Thirty yards below the chalice,

Congregate the six plus twenty more

Who’ve met us here,

Bearing gifts which lifts the spirit

Telling us of life back home,

A home that’s seen my son

Sixteen years now fully grown,

Last time our eyes met

I cried as his lips smiled

As I put the ointment above his brow,

And now comes word he’s joined the others

In quest of fire, In quest of plunder,

If ever we meet again, Will he recognize the same scars I still wear,

The boy with the stories echoed the cascade of pirates

Daring their lives entering our confines,

The council took them in,

Malnourished and ripe,

Bound for sin,

Years had passed and they grew strong,

Then sent word for their kin to come,

Underestimated the might within

The Viking sons and daughters,

I requested of my wife,

Last I heard she was with illness,

The boy apologized for the news before

He described my son beside her bed,

Sweaty rags and bloody sheets

Something wicked grew beneath her skin,

The herbs and crystals did their best,

A demon had entered in her abandoned womb

And over time it’s power groomed,

The chief and the seer gathered the others

Five of them, my wife included,

Were let one by one,

Curdling their seepage through heat of the sun,

Alas none were no more,

Haven’t been three seasons now,

Still this news was fresh to me,

A moment I shared with my brothers,

Who also had kin taken unkindly there,

We wept in union for one evening,

Then transferred our sorrow into rage and anger,

Enflamed in red, we looked instead,

Into the crevice before our flesh,

Darkened sight with howling sound,

I pity the soul of the unlucky demons

We shall inside find,

For honor, for Vikings, for love, for tribe,

When we reach the other side,

That much closer

We shall rise

Near the goal,

The chalice atop the peak above

Cloud and snow,

Death shall become all who betray our path,

The Gods have not provided passage for us

To not let us pass, soon

The chalice will be within our grasp

The Battle of Chalice Peak ( Mythic Series Volume Two)

Across the valleys,

In the night and through the snow,

Men fall in frigid fright,

Awful demons made of ice,

But we are many, unafraid to die,

 Despite their strength and their might,

Their numbers are slight; they underestimate man’s will to fight,

One thousand forty three,

Yet only one is required to reach the peak,

We battled strong, with disregard,

Many generations will sing our praise,

Many men and women, know they will our battle cry,

With axe, with sword,

With shield and hand,

We battled with all we had,

One by one the men would fall,

But with every hundred

We took down one,

Shards of frost dismembered and destroyed

Sons were lost and fathers buried beneath the ice,

Many days our spirit tested by the Gods,

Severed limbs and bludgeoned deep,

Gashed and dissected

Our blood melted the cold below,

Two hundred forty five,

Against a clan whose only goal is Ragnarok to make,

Of ice built men towering high,

Only three of which remained to die,

Each of us were bruised and damaged,

 Weary from the year we’ve spent,

Our will to protect was gone sometime

Yet, we stayed, dedicated to this plight,

Each night, after the daily bloodshed ends,

We count who’s left, then bury our dead,

And just before I immerse myself in cloth

I pray to those up in the sky,

Return soon, this I beg from you,

Many more seasons past,

Only a handful remained to stand,

Each having met death’s opened door,

And slammed it shut, we were meant for more,

Then as but one frost giant left to slay,

A bolt escaped the kingdom high,

Ice then festered through the sky,

After one week to regain health

The six remaining trekked forth

Knowing this was not the only

Battle we would see,

On our path towards the chaliced peak,

We have rested,

We are ready,

We are the last defense to the Gods,

Keeping Asgaards border safe

Remorse of a Giant

And to the East there are giants high, coveting the mountains in the sky,

Below skylines tainted in an amber glow,

The days of burgundy, the times of brightly dripping stone,

After this evening, never more,

The kings of the east deny involvement,

The Queens, far to the west, want no part,

The Northern fields and Southern plains,

With their brilliant castles and glorious waterways,

Is no contest, for a giant infused by death,

I’m incorrigible, I’m divine,

Made of rock, chiseled with purpose,

I will not retreat, nor denied,

With pointed horns, taut to the clouds,

My eyes proclaim, my hands decree,

Come.  Cease this surfeit if you can,

Invoke your sleeping giant, crusader I’m standing here!

Call upon your champion lest this feast will never yield,

This wrath, this scourge I alone cannot control,

Absolved singular, at the hands of a giant god,

Chance he fails or refuse acceptance,

To tear away this flesh, to set this molten free,

And fertilize these same fields, where I stand high

Brother, I pray release me from the curse I’m bound to,

I know this warning has been listened to,

Incongruity will pass, but I shall not,

Do not ignore me in this time of needfulness,

You must slay your youngest brother dead,

Our connection is ever more,

If this curse does not die however, with me this eve,

Forever their blood, their souls will eat constantly upon you,

Starting with your heart, feasting on your head

I shall persevere within this fight, if my blood does spill as I suspect it might,

Than loneliness will never harm me again,

And to the west there will be giants high, coveting the mountains in the sky