Golden handle to the door
Will gain us entry to eternal glory,
Extend my arm towards the goal,
Upon touch however cold it is outside
The flesh within the lamb protecting
Fingers from the blade scold at first
Then burst to blaze,
Still I pull back with a thousand might’s,
Yet the golden entrance does not blink,
In flames I seek release of hand
Yet my soul is powerless to magnetic command
Warriors look for access else place
But the fire from the gold and hand
Has spread throughout this temple grand
My sentry did what he could do,
Axe to wall, not a budge
The courier climbed from horse to rooftop high
Amidst the blaze into holiness he could not pass,
Like fruit still ripe upon the vine
It took three men to peel the glove from the hand of mine,
Short time after all that stood was the door of red,
Golden handle and charred lamb glove,
Slowly we waded through the temple’s corpse
Among the ash and smoke taken cloth
It was determined the inferno offered no remorse,
The chalice we could not find,
If it was here, buried in rubble and debris,
No mouth would raise it to its lip,
No tongue would drink fluid from its width,
So far we’ve gone, this close we’ve come,
Yet without the cup we have not won,
No words were spoken for long hours,
The thoughts of men were not desired
We each knew the pity we shared,
Each dream of reunion burned as well
And soon the God’s I must tell
Morale was sunk beneath our mortality
If enemy appeared this moment,
Thus would end our reign of brutality,
The Gods would need to find another,
To do their bidding,
To honor the pact they have with humanity,
And so I prayed to each,
Internal rhyme I could not find,
My message must not have been understood,
For nothing from the sky descent by our side,
Wait we did for months it seemed,
Afraid to move for the God fearing,
Unable to for the weak,
Then many moons had passed,
Freya appeared at last,
Each face opened, jaws broke in unholy disbelief,
But their came down the chariot,
Guided plainly by the blessed cats,
Love felt by each the men,
My gaze transfixed upon falcon
Wrapped around her holiness,
Softly spoke she did to us,
Appreciative of what we’ve lost and battles we’ve won,
Upon my knee, before her pride,
I begged a moment of her day,
She said to rise and speak my say,
I thanked her for her graciousness,
My lady from up high,
What do Vanir seek from I,
To which she instructed the importance
Our service means, and soon directive
Will return to us, but here upon this mountain’s top
Wait we must, and wait for whatever length,
Obey in the Gods we will trust, using patience for our breath,
She retreated to chariot, then stopped and knelt,
Touched the frigid earth
And suddenly vegetation sprung to our surprise,
And then Freya left us all,
And wait we would,
Until we next heard Asgaards cry
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