Diamonds only pale with pages of ink,
Covers in leather dear animals kill,
Faded memories now strike at the core,
Prayer needs on knees as they have their fill.
Asatru blade tips at wooden gates,
Flee to spires will hold no salvation,
A grouping huddled under the cross,
Monks come out no foolish retaliation.
Vikings wonder of gold and women's legs,
Fuelled indecency that binds smiles,
Children broken and dead in blood muck,
Drunk on jewels and of course their guile.
Boats leave a tortured land by the sea,
God looks on in their wake,
True treasure left in burning books,
New life to be had though all fake.