Gray clouds

Cover the winter sky

Cold snow

Falls like autumn leaves to the ground

The icy wind

Pierces the skin of waiting warriors

Like spears

Will pierce their bodies in battle



Frosted

Beards on pale grey faces

Eyes of death

Are burning with rage



Glancing across

The fields of tyr

In the early

Morning light



Warcries break the silent wait

Charging warriors rush to kill

Swords are swung in the air

The gods of war are called



Vikings with fire in soul

Clash in the open field

Slaying with powerful strokes

The snow is turning red



Hooves gallop the plains

Warlords on horsebacks

Ride into battle

With a thunderous roar



The stormwind of death

Blows across the field

Sweeping with it

Everyone in its way



So the battle settles

Alone stands just one man

Under the grayclouded

Winter sky

Alone