war and winning

There is no war
That cannot be won
With courage in store
and mead by the ton

As long as there is meat,
and blood, bone for fire,
sweet words will defeat,
the wraiths of the pyre.

And under the stars,
in campfire alight,
we children of Mars,
will war with the night.

The night has come,
and we battle at day,
so grab you lover,
before you are taken away,

A tale of glory,
must still be told,
love is war is the story,
luck and courage hold.

To the warrior poet,
there is only the fight,
our words will show it,
with fiercest delight.

in the fields of war,
is no place for the flighty,
Mars' muscles are poor,
to the whims of Aphrodite

winter

the maiden fairest to my sight.
sees me with glacial stare
for death comes to foes this night,
with the chillness of the air
My blades are "winter" named
they are the caress of frost,
for the frozen heart now untamed,
her kiss is but the cost
bitter november wind does blow
the leaves make a deadened wall
in drifts like earth toned snow
There is a reason they call it fall
crunching underfoot like bones
the winter maiden brings her chill
colors turn to dirges tones
as she prepares for the kill.
And in these days entice,
with white silvered hand and crystal sky,
the warrior poet embraces the ice,
for someday even death may die
the battle won survivors gather
to lick thier wounds and sing praise
for the gods despise loser's blather
in the dying final days
so it is to my chilling lover
I sacrifice to this season,
though I love her like no other,
she rarely listens to reason
The skald will sing his tune,
unsheath his blade with boldness
his art will sketch the rune
steely kiss in winter's coldness

sorry been a while

It's been a hectic few months for me, traveling, journalism and studying. But I will soon blog again