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.» — Havamal
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