Best Skald Poems
The horned helmet of the dawn has met my sight
They’re shouting loudly, that I’m wrong – I’m right
The sky is putting on the armour of mournful clouds
I’m man with weapon I’m not farmer let someone shouts.
I’ve taken sword with hand of vengeance I’ve taken shield
I’ve never seen the kind angels and I have built
the ship to sail in land of Glory to seek and find
And maybe I will tell this story for famous Skald.
The morning’s giving me direction to be the One
I’m waiting so for satisfaction my will be done
I carry woes and pain and fury on peak of sword
I want to win I want it truly to be the lord.
I’ll share the blood without the weeping there is no choice
I hear myself that death is creeping I hear the noise
of battle and I kill with smile I’m tough as stone
I see the dead they stand like file I see the dawn.
Slaughtering Eng-lish not in anger but in a vikingr way nor in rangr using my servo of skald in poetica engraved within you may to wit grafa Dirt don’t hurt so they say, so dig Danzleikr, enjoy, do a little jig Please don’t pull out your har It is not English but not far I am not giving you the renna around nor kindling a fire upon fótr an about Do not worry a freknur on your head It not spoken much but it is not dead You use these words every day but maybe not Thursday Look in your own window but you’re the skipper, you know An ode to the old if to be so bold - A little help - ransack – rannsaka (to search a house) slaughter – slatra (to butcher), Víking meant an overseas expedition, and a vikingr was someone who went on one of these expeditions. Rangr (unjust/ wrong, Servo of skald - sword of artful poetry, window – vindauga (lit. “wind-eye”), foot – fótr
We were poets and hymns
were so vital and proud
Our beautiful dreams
As I see haven’t found.
We have lost our Cult
Our poems have died
Let me say you are Skald
We won’t stop our fight.
Our power’s in rhymes
Under shining of the sun
They will judge us for crimes
Those we have never done.
We have lost our Cult
Our poems have died
And I’m telling you Skald
Are you ready to fight?
Our verse in the past
Honey’s flowing on ground
Our songs about lust
As we know haven’t found.
I can see other cults
I can see other war
I will say we were Skalds,
But we’re not anymore.
Sadness within me is my skald,
Ignorant world, taunting my afterworld,
Why is my soul in this soil pinfold...
The sky is filled with dark enshroud,
Am dumbstruck, thunderstorms cloud...
Love is an unloved harken,
The heart in me, a shrunken token...
Fey reliquary in the sand,
Buffing the defoliated leaves off my land,
She lay her tears on my heartland...
Miseries of the silenced one...
Tortured hell gone...
Skald
Tour the Araby
Lawrence, betrayed
Other worlds, Orange lands
Countries low, or
MAGA land
Allenby, Hussein
Balfour, MacMahon
Bibi, Sisi
Khamenei, those men
Circassian mountaineers
Walk on sand
Jesus, no water
Wine, from holy land
Sweetest, Idunn’e apples
Life, what I seek?
Here, a foreign man
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