Ages of sailing ships.
Flamed kings'
Swords clutched.
Brunhilde...
A memory.
Fire meets water.
Wood greets gentle
Waves.
Woven, woolen sails
Topple
Archeologists' theories.
Thor does not hammer
A useless Loki.
But, there in fiords'
Mists,
Lokis laughter
Wakens
The Phoenix
Once more
Timeless
More.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Onward to valhalla! Great write with some very vivid imagary Thanks Nik