His arm was strong, his eye was true,
For the glory of the Emperor he slew,
Red was the snow beneath the skies
As the ravens feasted on his enemy’s eyes.
In Helmgart’s bitterly biting cold
The Saga of the Stomwolf’s told,
How none could stand before his gaze,
How his foes measured their lives in days,
A feast was served to Morcar’s fang,
To sate it’s endless hunger pang,
He raged in war, their souls to reap
And send them to their endless sleep,
Cries of despair from their throats were torn
As they gazed upon the wrath of Bjorn.
The Saga of Bjorn Stormwolf circa. 945.031.M41
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