The War, The Symbol

Echoes of clashing
Blades,
Like the sound of
Smiths
Hard at
Work.
They reverberate
Across a
Battlefield that had since been
Silent.

The cause
Two warriors.
Pax of the south,
Determinedly spreading his peace
At the end of a sword,
And Friga from the north,
Protecting her people
To insure independence with her axe.

They clash under an ancient
Ash tree.
A most holy site.
Their war demands no less.
All watching know as much
And stand to the side.

Grand and powerful,
Is their conflict.
Everything matters here.
No movement is without worth.
Without meaning.
The fight is of
Jouton
And
Demons.
Both equally as
Fierce.

Despite this, a victor must be
Chosen.
So the gods
Pick.

With hands that guide,
Pax's blade is
Run through
The mighty
Friga.
The moment as sky's fire
Strikes the
Ash tree.

Flames consume it
A symbol of what
Will be.

The independent people
Drop their arms.
Swearing fealty
To the south,
And losing their title.

They
Forget
Friga, now.
But the north,
She never will.

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

Hahaha the Roman peak against The Queen of Asgard? Wunderbar. I like you.

You forgot a "g" in your Friggas.

Friggia's got two G's holmes. (even the old school - Frigg.... fuggin two G's!) All day 2 g's

You'd have been a genius if you wrote this on Friday by the way. (Frigg is where Friday comes from). A day too early, or maybe it was Friday for you in, where ever the f**k you live.

[The Poet of Black Wings]

It's a different friga. Her name was almost frigi in this, but it just wasn't as pretty.

[Davidgeo]

The penguin with an apron on?

[Davidgeo]

Don't I now feel stupid

[The Poet of Black Wings]

Just a random shield maiden. One that is a badass... was.