The Shield Maiden

I'm fifty summers, scarred and worn, I was raised where lives were torn. Beside the men, I sailed the tide, With every raid, more screams would die. I split a priest from neck to waist, Watched crimson rivers spill like waste. In fields of gore, I earned my name, The Shield Maiden, drenched in fame. Four daughters bear my weary face, But they'll not stride through Odin's grace. "Cook and kneel," the priest commands, While men lay claim to hearts and hands. They'll never know the rush of blood, Or wade knee-deep in crimson flood. No village burns beneath their might, No steel will gleam in the morning light. When I was young, we slaughtered the Christians, Now we bow to their weak lord's will. With axe and fire, we carved existence, But they've torn that world and made us still. They crushed our gods to bring their lies, And made our fire fade and die. Women, once equals, bound in chains, By holy words that breed disdain. No spear to hold, no shield to lift, Just servitude, their only gift. For what was won by axe and flame, Is buried now in Christian shame. When I was young, we slaughtered the Christians, Now we bow to their weak lord's will. With axe and fire, we carved existence, But they've torn that world and made us still. This fragile world will break no chains, Not while my veins hold rage's flames. My place is not to bake or serve, I'll die in wrath, and not in nerves. Now here I sail, for one last raid I'll fight once more til my life fades I'll drink the cries of dying foes, Till Valkyries come, my soul to stow. When I was young, we slaughtered the Christians, Now we bow to their weak lord's will. With axe and fire, we carved existence, But they've torn that world and made us still. In Odin's hall, my story sung, No priest will chain what time has wrung. The Shield Maiden rises, her sword aloft, To strike for the gods both grim and strong. The Shield Maiden rises, her sword aloft, To strike for the gods both grim and strong.