Sails of the North

Still the old gods whispers.
Through it all, fire in the hall, thunder in the night,
Fear hence beyond, ride toward the light.
Across black waters where the sea wolves roam,
Searching for glory far from home.
Axes shine bright in the pale dawn haze,
Scouts will remember these fearless days.
Prayer sees visions in embers and flames,
Speaking of battles yet to earn their name.