411. The Marauders
They came long before dawn, pulled their ships ashore by Sunna's early light,
To do battle they carried swords, axes, spears, and shields for the coming fight,
These ferocious warriors brought with them from their distant land Gods of War,
The wise Odin, One - handed Tyr, and the son of the All- Father, the Mighty Thor.
The terrified Christians rang their church bells, ran about shouting a fair warning,
They tried their very best to set up defense lines in the mist of the early morning,
Their efforts were not nearly enough, they had come to do battle much too late,
For those weavers of history, known as the Norns, had already sealed their fate.
Charred crops, and villages left in ruins, smothered in a pall of lingering smoke,
The stench of death invades the nostrils, burning human flesh makes you choke,
Corpses lie in their forever sleep, frozen in time where they fell upon the ground,
Where once there could be heard joy and happiness, no longer is there a sound.
Some were hung by their necks on the gnarly branches of the scorched forest trees,
Dangling helplessly they dance from side to side with each and every gentle breeze,
On sharpened stakes severed heads at every entrance to this evil image of hell adorn,
Placed there as symbols of terror by the marauding Vikings, both to frighten and warn.
Their ships now heavily ladened with every ounce of plundered gold they sailed away,
Swiftly favorable winds carried them, the currents pushing them ever closer day by day,
When the Fjord was finally reached they put out their oars, rowed singing a victory song,
Happy that they would be reunited with loved ones, they had been away from for so long.
- Glenn Bergen, ( Ravensheart ), © Copyright, 2017.