In Battle
follow the allfather
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He is the air, the empty space
Between the gallows and the ground,
The shout of ecstasy and pain
When life meets death and wisdom's
He's in the battle cries, the yell
Of frenzied fighting; then the breeze
That cools the corpses where they fell
To which the ravens swoop to feed
He is the ravage of the storm,
He is a blast of bitter wind
The icy gusts of winter gales
That tear apart, and scour the skin
The leader of the ghastly host-
Grim riders racing through the sky
Grey horses ride the frost
And chill the heart as they pass by