Where icy winds see fit to blow,
And vallies fill with mountain snow.
Where moors in foggy wonder wait,
To capture foe and play with Fate.
Where waters slide and swirl and rush,
Through twists and turns until they're hushed.
Where beasties lie in piling tail,
With forkéd tongue and piercing scale.
With slitted eye and sharpened wit, He does perceive
His friends, his foes, and He-that-would-deceive;
The Wolf, the Thunder, and His father dear;
At home, on Earth, or waiting near.
Serpents lie and slither 'round,
Beneath his weight, above the ground.
And Odin on his Godly throne
Hath banished this son to His Earthly home.
So here he'll lie in his Lake of Snakes,
Until the time comes for him to take
Up arms and join the fight;
To beat the Thunder and end His plight.
Asgard will finally reach defeat,
And this life-long quarrel will be complete.