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North Wolves


Behold,
the vast swan-road
path of war
vinland's trail

I don't fear
the cold grip of death
at sea, nor land
nor the battlefield

I feel the cold breath
on these shores that we claim
the dead grow cold
we reign

We are the bane of the “lord God”
and his cross
Hail to the North Wolves of the sea
and Fjord

Awashed on the sands
Amidst grappling waves
and tides

tremble in the face
of iron rage
and old gods

(solo- Justin/Jeff)

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