BRIDGE OF SWORDS

Armour discarded
Bloodied mail lay in abandon,
I face the Bridge of Swords.
The light from the sentinel
Envelopes my naked form,
No sign of the blow that claimed me
For I am dead, free from pain.
I look back
Where death and hurt lay broken,
Fire, smoke and screaming men
Clouded by this ethereal veil.
So this is death
Where coldness grips your spirit
Though,
All I feel is warmth, serenity and joy.
A horn sounds as does the drum
And I step forward, toward light,
My shadowbody in silvery glow
The Gods have summoned me.
Skulls of my kills smile as I pass
Fire breathes from hollow eyes,
The keen blade clasped in hand
A glistening executioner.
Fresh armour awaits me
Gleaming in Valhallas feasting hall,
A horn of ale overflowing
And my warhounds howl as wolves.
My warband are here
Singing like a baying pack,
We are the victorious dead
Fame is ours, the eternal warriors.
I have entered the otherworld
A lord of war no more,
Forever to feast with the gods
After crossing the bridge of swords.

Phil Hall  July 2014