Tears Of Beljymor The Strong

The blackened cloud of darkness pervading
Who stole the light from the heavens
And whose lightning did flash so readily,
It cut the night asunder.
Yet through the mists, with axe blade bared,
Strode the Beljymor of old.
Of ages past did this remiss,
Of the ancient king of ancient line.

He who hadst taken in hand,
The icy Wyrm of ill-fated hatred,
Vorfrostir, Hunger of the Glacier.
Whose skin was naught that blade could breech it,
And breath was death to all who faced it,
Yet found his end at the hand of the king,
Beljymor the Strong.
Slayer of the Ogre hoard,
From western coastlands, thus came bloodthirsty raiders.
With swing of his axe,
the Formir, he dealt them due return!
At dawn of man, Giants made slaves,
For father son to be onward theirs.
Yet Beljymor stood where others didst kneel,
And to him did giants soon bend knee.
Oft their mighty Jarl, darkest of their brood,
Touched with the hand of Erythnul,
Ringed in chaos of his wild lord,
Did bade Beljymor to match him blades.
And oft did the Jarl, O darkest of their brood,
Fall upon knee in defeat and awe.
Within chaos of lands awar,
Didst Beljymor a lasting peace make.
Uniting within his golden crown,
Those who had upon war life made,
Binding them to toils of earth,
Of swords their plows didst make.

Long had time passed, this king now old,
Greyed in time’s short passing.
Yet strength remained, in arm and heart,
For this one last deed.
Upon the mount of Shalek’s throne,
The demon had awoken.
Wreathed in flame of hell’s vast pit,
The very world he threatened,
To spew out forth from his frozen mount,
His demon army to bare.
The outlaw dire hadst taken hence,
The very queen of Beljymor,
To keep the king at bay.
But his taken queen, oh light of his heart,
Had spurred the king in action.
Broad steps took he, upon the mount of the demon lord,
To its icy peaks ascent.
To bring to bare the punishments,
Of the demon’s heinous crime.

Stood the demon upon his mount,
Sword alight in the lingering rays,
Of a sun so soon to depart.
Upon his blade, did Formir, clash,
Great axe of men and sword of fiends,
Whose mighty swing didst shake the earth,
And all men did tremble in fear of the mighty battle ongoing.
Of the queen, Beljymor saw not,
And called the demon to answer,
Of what had befallen his only love,
And whither to go to find her.
A raucous laughter didst shake the mount,
Of the demon’s gruesome design.
For here was she not,
And only he, knew from whence to find her.
With shouts of anger and strikes of hate,
The king then met that foe.
Driving down with strength untold,
The demon’s armor sundered,
A mighty wound did leave him beaten,
Upon the ground thus helpless.
“Thou knows not, for is your queen,
To me bound in true.
Shouldst my end be fated here,
Forfeit is her life.
Striketh true, with the might of all your brood,
And leave my reign thus ended.
But knoweth this, your axe doth sever,
My world as well as hers.
Go you now to the cave of frost,
Within which mighty Vorfrostir didst habit,
The queen of yours, she lies within,
But shall she forever if I meet my end.”

The cave, as fortold, was in true inhabit,
Upon the ice his queen did rest.
Within his arms the king did lift her,
To home where they would be.
But laughter abounded,
From walls of ice around,
For Shalek there had waited, not to be outdone.
From his knees, the king last looked,
Upon the world of which he knew,
The demon’s sword red glistened dull,
His lifeblood lay upon it.

Fashioned for him, by his loyal men,
And all within the land,
A funeral pyre, with him atop it,
His wife he lay beside.
Cries of woe arose from all,
Upon the ocean echoed.
For the loss of their king,
The savior of men,
In heavy mood their misery moaned they,
Their master's death.
Pushed to berth in seas of flames,
Beljymor floated outwards,
Amidst walls up high, and richest gems,
Which have not since been given,
Flames raging slow, taking him onwards,
Unto his soul creator.
And thus he stands, Formir thereby gleaming,
In the light of Kord, by his side,
Forever his people watching.

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