From the mind of Welvyn Z Porter

Where the Thunder Strikes

Where the Thunder Strikes

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-Transcript-
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Our enemy bands upon the shore, Brothers!
I see the glimmering of their steel.
They sent a bunch of wives men,
to the slaughter like veal.

To arms, to arms, Valhalla admits the brave.
I can hear Thor judge in the distance.
It’s victory, or the grave.
Land approaches, full steer! 

Brace your shields for the bowmen draw their shot!
The first volley flies! Huh, aim an afterthought.
The second volley is let loose,
This time they hit the spot! 

Their arrowheads blacken the moon from the sky,
hanging during their arching decent.
Hold! Shield to shield, shoulder to shoulder!
This won’t make a dent.

Wounded? Ha! Not a single drop of blood spilled!
Ho! Land approaches! Prepare to beach!
Now’s the time to kill or be killed.
To war for glory! Onward! 

We’ve burned to the ground dozens of villages.
You think you stand a chance against us?
Our name is known for pillages.
Our power indeed nonplus. 

They fall to the ground like cattle to a plague.
There’s no honor in how they die.
Odin’s eye! Is that their king?!
Fleeing like a fly. 

Brothers! Stand your ground while I take to pursuit.
I’ll cut him off at the rocky pass.
Let’s finish this war quickly.
For their kingdom is glass. 

Old man! Hel awaits such blatant cowardice!
You turn and flee while your army falls!
Seems like gold can by loyalty,
But not a set of balls.

Kings these days, your crown is built upon falsehoods.
You swing your blade like a child.
Running from your own manhood,
royalty reconciled.

Monarchy blood… it even stains the dirt different.
Less vibrant, thicker, nothing like wine.
By the Gods! What is that light?
How brilliantly it shines! 

Warrior! You have been chosen to join Odin’s guard.
You will spend your days training for the Ragnarök.
Take my hand, we must go, I know this is quite a shock.
But deny my will and by my wings you’ll be charred.

With you I’ll go nowhere. You glorified bird!
Your wish is trivial and absurd.
I give no heed to your word.
Leave me to this battle

I do not WISH anything, it’s no request.

=-Watch your tone with me woman, you better jest.

How dare you. The sheer arrogance a man can possess!

You shall judge me by blade and not by the cut of my dress.

Fine! You want death, I will acquiesce.
Not possible… this can’t be.

Fool, you should have accepted your fate and come with me.

But I was not ready.

No one ever is, and it’s cliché uttering pleas.

The Devil's Étude

The Devil's Étude

The Stranger

The Stranger