The Last Berserker

Out of all of my poems, this one means the most to me.

A flaming arrow flies
Through the darkness of the skies,
Rips through the sails
and lands on the deck.
The single body on board
Burns up, even the cord
Of the Mjolnir pendant
Round his neck.

This is the last Berserker
A funeral fit for a king.

In days gone by
This man would never cry,
His brutal tactics
And ruthless rage
Would terrify his enemies,
So the stories would go, as my Grandfather tells me.

This is the last Berserker
A vicious warrior for his faith.

Now he fights
Alongside the Gods,
His presence alone
Evens the odds,
Down in Midgard
The days are hard,
The great wolf Fenrir
Has swallowed the sun.
This man fights
To save his home
Alongside the Gods,
He is never alone.

This is the last Berserker
The bravest man to ever live.

And now he is gone.