Under The Greyclouded Winter Sky

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.

Grey 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.

War cries 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 on 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 storm wind of death
Blows across the field
Sweeping with it
Everything in its way.

So the battle settles
Alone stands just one man
Under the grey-clouded winter sky alone.