Silent Slippers
A wave of courage, a throne of power, where silent slippers tread,
Upon the path of wisdom’s will, where secrets are spread.
A bridge of dreams, a gate of hope, against the azure sky,
A wave of courage, a throne of power, where the brave dare to fly.
A hoard of destiny awaits, an inheritance divine,
Clad in golden armor bright, the warriors align.
Battle-axes furious, in the storm they whirl and spin,
Horns of thunder echo loud, their sound through worlds unfurls within.
In halls of fire-sparkling light, treasures gleam and glow,
An encircling wall stands tall, against the gilded show.
A hall of valor stands, where heroes rest and roam free,
An eternal vigil they keep, in this their timeless home.
Armor golden, shields battle-worn, tell tales of fights well-fought,
A helmet horned, a steed of fire, in the dance of battle caught.
Ancient wisdom whispers soft, in the decree of fate’s design,
Shadows dark guide the hand, through every twist and turning line.
Cloaked in death’s dark mystery, the gate of glory stands apart,
A dwelling-place for gods above, and Hel’s forsaken lands to part.
