Fall Of The GodsA Poem by Franc RodriguezThe coming of the God of the cross, has arrived, when the tribes of the Norsemen, are in disarray.
The war of the athelings had not yielded,
And the orlay of the thedes forbore prickly, Whilst the loathsome wrath of harsh wrack, Had spread onto the kingdoms of Norsemen. Hence a wanton wrength betided nigh, Beyond the elderdom of the folk quickly, With brash strives that gart weary wers, To break asunder a holdship of kinsmen. Forsooth the gruesome hild abided, That brought the war to a halting stop, Clenching and weaving the swith gods, Into the unwanted outcome too brath. Hence tidings of the war raught the gods, Amidst the swiftest birr of the raven's drop, With the days marred in a yemeless blood, Within the war of the gods without a path. The wald of the kinsfolk saughted anew, In a ferd under a banner of brotherhood, With the happening of a war that befell, And the fight betwixt the gods of greed. A here of wickedness that straightway, Arouse their dall selfhood and manhood, As a truce of aforetime in the gods tore, With the grure that began blive to breed. Upon the misty day the thedes gathered, In a field graith beyond a lonesome mare, And through a fog roaring by the knolls, Rose those heres of Loki, Fenrir and Hel. Under their behest a horde of orcs yode, Ents, trolls, as slayers of a forgotten war, Within the galm of flesh eaters swarming, Striving then mightily upon a wal-grim fel. With the athelings and thanes stood Jutes, Frisians, Saxons, and the elves and nords, As a blazing fire on a flank by Loki’s hand, Burned willful heleths and rined the others. A grisly doom befell upon kinsmen rathe, When feeling the fastness of baneful lords, And within the lightning rods came Thor, To stint the froward wroth throng of doers. An unbridled hild became an endless war, Betwixt the true strength of the gods afresh, As a deep breath of the goddess Hel blew, With a whirlpool of weight upon the earth. Opening the byrnies of the hold kinsmen, Thirling with a quickness their taut flesh, As an earth shook in murk lapping a sky, With the loud roar heard beyond the firth. Heimdall came blowing yarely his horn, To deafen the ears of nithings in the rear, As Fenrir strode from beyond leery knolls, Howling with the bustling winds blending. He deafened the ears of all the kinsmen, As bain drights afterwards began to sear, Within the Midgard chosen to start a war, That seemed to have no frithsome ending. The behoof of Odin did sway the fight, On behalf of the wigends of goodness, Upon the eight legged horse he steered, To grip the fiends making them listless. They dwined into a whirlpool of might, A token of the witness of gory madness, As a light of the worlds of the gods shone, Beyond the manifold stars of the allness. The worship of everlasting gods welked, With the living god of a rood ere foretold, And a wistful time of the elders did wane, In the athelings who withstood shame eft. Thus the fall of the gods kept alive oft, Through the skalds that wrote twofold, With their names found within the runes, And the wuldor of a lore that foes reft. © 2016 Franc RodriguezReviews
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1 Review Added on June 30, 2016 Last Updated on July 1, 2016 AuthorFranc RodriguezAboutI consider myself a poet of the Romantic and Victorian epochs, and my poems are meant to allow the readers, to envision through my words such contemplation. If we only could find within the depth of o.. more..Writing
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