The Rise of Gods and the Fall of Giants
From icy void, a giant stirred,
Ymir, the first, his body blurred.
No sun, no moon, no stars to gleam,
Just primal frost, a waking dream.
Then Auðumbla, the cow of might,
Licked salt from ice, with all her light.
And from the ice, a god arose,
Búri, the ancestor, as legend goes.
The Æsir came, with Odin's lead,
Gods of battle, sowing seed
Of power vast, and iron hand,
A ruling force across the land.
The Vanir bloomed, a fertile grace,
Freyja's beauty, in time and space.
They brought the harvest, rich and bold,
A story woven, silver and gold.
Yggdrasil, the world tree tall,
Connecting realms, to heed its call.
Asgard above, where gods reside,
Midgard below, where humans stride.
And Helheim dark, a chilling keep,
Where souls are lost, in endless sleep.
But shadows rise, a chilling fate,
Ragnarök nears, sealed by hate.
Giants gather, a fearsome horde,
Against the gods, with a sharpened sword.
The final battle, light and dark,
A crashing wave, a dying spark.
The world ablaze, the heavens fall,
An ending grim, consuming all.
Yet from the ashes, new life will bloom,
A verdant earth, escaping doom.
A reborn world, a promise bright,
After the darkness, comes the light.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment