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Buried deep in a heap of limp corpses
I lay bloody and wounded, but alive.
The Valkyries have shown their backs to me.
Beaten, but breathing I am left to be.
My lords' left me behind amidst the strife,
Though I warded their lands and kept their horses.
How can this be? The jarls' warden is left
Alone in the winter's unforgiving cold
And forsaken by his own men to die.
When I needed help, all my pleas and cries
Went ignored, though I helped them in days of old.
So now, all my love for them is bereft.
My whole life, I never used Odin's Gift.
But now, my father's wolf pelt shall be worn,
And I shall unleash this beast that lies within.
I hear it scream to me, "Give in! Give in!"
Those traitors will have their possessions shorn,
Including their lives when my shape does shift.
Through fire, blood and pain, they shall loathe this day.
No matter the cost, I'll make them all pay.
Justin Douglas Blackford
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