Rise Of The Striplings

Amid a war of Nordic tribes, young warriors have risen from the clans.

A grill war betwixt the gods had ended, 
With the sons of Aesk born upon a dale,
And their selflike offspring weaned then, 
Upon strong hands of the almighty gods. 

Striving upon the hulls of the longships, 
That sailed broad seas wised by a gale,
Wending onto unknown lands yet further, 
Within the bellows of the lightning rods.

Riding as the fearsome heleths of yore, 
Upon the bustling waves of Njordr stour,
With the true sibs of the wlonc athelings, 
That had been all straightway begotten.

Whence steered betimes onto the world, 
By the blustery winds that blew of Thor,
With the lasting deeds of the worthy gods, 
In the bewritten scrolls never forgotten.

For years the truce within the brethren, 
Withstood soundly until the heedful day,
The holdship of the elders rived amain, 
By the thedes through selfish athelings. 

The gods witnessed the wrath of Aesk, 
With a kith forlorn within a land of sway, 
Wearing the wrought lands of the Vikings, 
As the breme slayers and fearless siblings.

The need for greed made the athelings, 
Soon free the dreaded offspring of Sköll,
From within the dark and gloomy wealds, 
Skulking abreast the groves of the night.

Amidst the wide depth of the Midgard, 
Roamed wildors beyond a creepy knoll,
Whilst striding to and fro with great nith, 
Upon the lands of the kindred with might. 

Wreaking havoc for manifold moons, 
Upon the Norsemen with an iron hold,
Coming as the wild storm casting fear, 
Onto the weak and dim souls wielded.

Wearisome eventides therefore gory, 
With a dripping blood of the fallen bold,
And from within the grasp of a full moon, 
The wolves rose blive and never yielded.

Upon the fog a horde of derf new fighters, 
From the bosoms born withinward arose,
As a kith of Aesk fordoing them through, 
Their amazing wilm and their til sleights.

Swarming upon their foe within dawn, 
With the grisly threat of before that rose,
And slaying the wolves with their swords, 
Driving them afterwards to the heights.

Thenceforth with the coming of a sunlight, 
Their foes had wizened and swelted anon,
And oft herried and bestowed by all thorps, 
The doughty keepers of the sweer stroke. 

The ghastly hild had afterwards ended, 
But a war of kinsmen began iwis thereon,
As bairns did not foresee in the athelings, 
The gruesome wantonness that awoke. 

The harsh wrath of the froward athelings, 
That the skalds warned amidst a folk keen,
And deemed by the tongues of the elders, 
As the longsome war of brazen athelings.

And a glare of whetted swords swealed, 
Within the sparkling glint felt and seen,
Whilst foretold in the lore of Norsemen, 
And known as the rise of the striplings.

Reviews

[Warrior]

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