For Tyr
by Joseph Crain
Guardian of the grey-haired
Son of Loki, who lies
Bound by six impossibilities
And shut jaws by his sword.
The god of brutal combat
Falls on you in a collision
That cannot be stopped.
Eternal glory shall you find
Through his word of
Rallying to heed the call.
Savage kicks and blows
Batter the foe as hail
Rains on earth. By the
Sword of Tyr, the tyrant
Armies collapse dead,
Sent to Niflhiem, wherein
They shall forever dwell in
In mist and biting cold.
Artwork by MaverikElf.
Poem by Joseph Crain.