Valhalla
(Author: Leslye Fish)
Sigerd was an Odin man, the last of pagan kind
For churchmen ruled the countryside, and all men they could find
Yet Sigerd prayed to Odin God, with heart, and soul, and mind
In hopes that he would reach Valhalla
Sigerd died in battle crying Odin to the last
Beyond the reach of churchman's heaven his soul speeded fast
But when he reached the Bifrost Bridge he found the gates barred fast
Alas! No entry to Valhalla
Odin's voice called to him then, the gate I'll not unbar
For we are under siege with churchmen's heaven, we're at war
Yet I shall keep my pledge to you, though you must wander far
Still I shall bring you to Valhalla!
The winds of time took Sigerd then, and whipped him down the years
They burned away his memories, of love and hope and fears
And left him as newborn babe, whose foremost cry and tears
Were for lost promise of Valhalla
This age and name fit ill on him, he grew to mans estate
A thoughtful, bookish, lonely lad, who felt betrayed by fate
Who dreamed and read and oft regretted he was born too late
For the age of Odin and Valhalla
He came upon anachronisms, who kept the ancient skills
Gladly did he join with them, and practiced with a will
For he felt an old hope stirring, as he persisted still
A long step closer to Valhalla
He called himself Lord Sigerd now, he dressed in black bear skin
He hasted through his duties to his mundane work and kin
For in the weekend combat, he could feel the veil wear thin
'Till it seemed he could almost reach Valhalla
In time he won a Baron's rank, the folk bowed down before
At length a herald rose and spake, my lord you could do more
Pray, bring your skills with us this year out to the eastern war
It's the next best thing to old Valhalla
So Sigerd went to war that year, and stared at what he found
The ancient garbed and armored folk, the clanging battle ground
The market place, the mead halls, and the campsite sprawling round
And he felt time shift him to Valhalla
For look the warriors battled there, so merrily all day
And maidens resurrected everyone the strokes would slay
Then at the mead hall they would feast and sing the night away
Oh, it fit all descriptions of Valhalla
'Twas true, it wasn't perfect, there was war but twice a year
With lesser revels once a month, in kingdoms far and near
And all the dreary lesser days the mundane world was here
Still it was close enough to call Valhalla
Be careful what paradise you deal,
What hope you make other dreamers feel
For if too many hear it, they will struggle to draw near it
And in the search they just might make it real
So every war and revel now go to the feasting hall
And there you'll find a Viking lord named Sigerd standing tall
Giving thanks to Odin, for the pledge kept after all
Singing YO-HO welcome to Valhalla!
For we have made our own Valhalla!
For we are the builders of Valhalla!
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