Hall Of The Fallen

The light pierces the darkness so beautifully

as I enter the halls of white stone,

overwhelmed by the smell of mead and roasted meat

as I am greeted by a hail of raised tankards

and the shout of the mighty warriors that fell before me.

There is much honor in this place,

so much life among the souls of fallen brethren.

Odin sits in his great throne and smiles to me.

I know that I have come to Valhalla.

I know that at last I am home.

Author's Note

For My Shield Brother, Hurshel Thomas.

Reviews

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

I really enjoyed the strength within your words here, well done.