Saga of the seidhr
There amidst the liss of the broad welkin roam,
the wandering souls of a once truce that was torn.
And a great tale that is found there within the runes,
and within the lore of the wise elders of the Saxons.
Among the stilly knolls that tarry in the slade of tors,
a rather wondrous saga was aforetime to be born.
A saga of galdor and wights, witches and wizards,
kept alive withal by the Vikings and the Frisians.
Whilom the kingdoms of the Saxons were wielded,
by the strength and thew of the sons of Wuldor.
And their craving for more might elsewhere forsook,
the once wuldor of their father and of their kindred.
Wulric blinded by the withcraft of his dearest wife,
agrised with fright under her bewitching galdor.
The gods did not forget their foolish greediness,
or did the bereaved offspring of their brethren.
Lost in the wrath of his madness he reaved the thorps,
and with an iron fist thereafter he came to rixle.
And his evil gryre led to the uprising of the freemen,
and the thanes and athelings that arose to fight him.
Hence from the folde onto the brine he overswithed,
as his wayward foes sought then their wyrd to wrixle.
They fell too rathe onto the meadow as the men strove,
as the fearless horde of Wulric’s drights then slew them.
Forthwith the witherward horde of Wulric soon raught,
the wealds of the elves and the wycks of the dwarves.
Soon the elves and dwarves were feckless in the end,
to halt the gars of the fearful oncoming of the nithings.
And the elves or the dwarves thwarted elsewhither,
the wroth madness that strove upon them in droves.
And soon Ingui Freyr had sought help from Godric,
as an errand raught him that spake of the athelings.
He told Godric of the wearn of the elves and the mishap,
that betided thereafter the wal of the bloody onslaught.
His dun and gloomy guise bore sorrow and much grief,
as he norned the dear lost of the golden key of Asgard.
Thenceforth he warned the king of the Saxons amain,
threaping him for forgetting the oath that was taught.
And Godric knew his lovesome brother was there nigh,
and that Hella was roaming about free in the Midgard.
The dreaded goddess had shaped herself as a maiden,
and as a wreaker bewitching Wulric through her spell.
Her wode wrath upon the Saxons was felt at once,
as she rode abreast with the brazen drights of Wulric.
Henceforth strode forth a horde of might and strength,
upon the brant slade as a brath guth afterwards befell.
And upon the midday of a misty day hither and thither,
the gleam of the sun glistened upon the guise of Godric.
Hella sought the book of galdor kept by the wise elders,
whilst Godric his brother was to stop their madness.
Forgiven by the gods he awaited Wulric with his here,
and at once the bloody hild within Midgard had begun.
The drights clashed athwart with all their wald and sweat,
and soon the winsome sky was overheled in darkness.
The might of Hella overwhelmed the orped heleths,
and the dales wesaned strewn with their blood again.
The wuldorful heleths of Godric did not much forbear,
the blazing brond that quickly burnt their byrnies whole.
The harrowing throes of swoughs were heard oft straightway,
sweltering as gleeds within the teeming grip of the fire.
As it seemed that doom was to befall thuswise upon Godric,
he behight the gods that were watching beyond the knoll.
The rain then began to drench the ground in endless blood,
as the brave men of Godric wallowed in the sluggish mire.
And soon his howling steven was heard by the gods,
amongst the wuthering winds there that afterwards blew.
Galdere the drymann and mund of the book came forth,
upon the sparkling light of the winly welkin that shone.
Quickly with his staff he struck down the men of Wulric,
as the many bodies of the drights onto the barrows flew.
A war betwixt good and evil unfolded twofold within the dale,
as the heedful eyes of the gods eft were seen and then known.
And twain brothers stood before each other with a fiery stare,
with their wrought swords at hand yare to swing and to slay.
They fought till the death thus forsaking within their anger,
their brotherhood and the worthy mensk of their wuldorfather.
Their eyes were dreved in the madness of their strife,
within the whetted swords that clashed on that day.
Their clash was then heard from beyond the hummocks,
and soon Godric slew with much pain his beloved brother.
So he fell to his knee as he began to mourn in rue aloud,
the death of his fallen sibling as he asked for forgiveness.
Then Hella was driven away for the nonce from Midgard,
by Galdere the once mightiest drymann of all the Saxons.
And the gods had not forlorn the son of Wuldor in the end,
for Galdere bore the guise of Woden through the brightness.
The time of the gods was about to come to a longsome end,
as the belief in the gods dwined amid the folk of the Frisians.
Hence the yemeless wars amongst the thedes of the wyrd,
ended there in the gales that wended and the years to come.
The Saxons also did forsake the willsomeness of the Gods,
and their beloved wyrd was lost and yode then no further.
Therefore the old book of galdor was to be tyned forever,
at the bottom of the brine beyond the waroth and a new home.
Hidden and closed by the key of the book of galdor by Woden,
lain afterwards the wonderful and forgotten saga of the seidhr.
(2013)
