Follow The Allfather - In Battle

He is the air, the empty space

Between the gallows and the ground

The shout of ecstasy and pain

When life meets death and wisdom’s found

He’s in the battle cries, the yell

Of frenzied fighting;

then the breeze

That cools the corpses where they fell

To which the ravens swoop to feed

He is the ravage of the storm

He is a blast of bitter wind

The icy gusts of winter gales

That tear apart, and scour the skin

The leader of the ghastly host

Grim riders racing through the sky

Grey horses ride the frost

And chill the heart as they pass by