Viking All In Black

He was grizzled, intimidating, the original Viking all in black. We were fearful, tearful, he was frightened us. We felt lack. Is he a Viking? A Trojan? A Greek? A devil not clearly seen? We did not know, so we reported this stranger to our darling queen. Our queen was not afraid of anything, we had seen this before. She summoned him to court, but he disappeared, gone forevermore. We pondered this stranger with blue eyes the rest of our life. He was a battle of one, scaring us soundly. We all felt the strife. He was Celtic, a pagan, a man with battle and death on his mind. He was horrible, a meanie, nothing like our loving sweet kind. Some said his name was unmentionable, so they would never tell. One thing for sure, this curious stranger was straight out of hell. The story of him grew until it could not be contained, alive in the air. He killed with his bare hands. His ebony coats were made of a bear. He was a hermit, a rounder, a sounder, a man to be avoided and feared. We love the stories of him. They are camp fire songs too, many endeared.