Dreaming of the Dawn

"Ill omens my friend, look, Ymir's blood drifts into the

dawning sun, and colours it as red as raven's mead,

I warn you again of this dark ambition!"

"Nay, my destiny is writ in stone, as it is for all men.

Fear not or fear greatly, for our wyrd is upon us! May the

gods watch our path, and Tyr light our way.

The doom of our folk is upon us. Quickly they ever fall to the

sign of the southern cross. Our fate must be decided!

We must sail at once!"

"To the north, then?"

"Aye... to the north..."

The red runes spoke of these dark days

A tale forgotten beneath the dying sun

A darkened plague, eclipsing all that should be

To the north we sail, beyond the mists of time

From ancient lore, a stone from above

In the farthest north, beneath the ice and snow

To turn back the southern shadow,

To reverse the river of Freya's tears

"That ninth I know: if need there be,

to guard a ship in a gale.

the wind I calm, and the waves also

And wholly soothe the sea."

Walvater do not desert us

We throw the last spear, across the field of history

To pierce the side of the martyr

To rape the fields of their lies

We dream of the dawn, of honour and legend

To burn brighter than a thousand suns

Our song will lift high, our blood will run deep

Into the veins of the earth, and colour the snow