There, gold-toothed Heimdal
stands upon his bridge,
and raises high his mighty horn,
that trumpets through the ancient halls
a note of desperate tragedy,
to sound that Ragnarök is born.
The world tree shudders
and the Serpent comes awake,
releasing from its grasp the earth,
which was encumbered by that snake.
The Æsir stand defiant,
knowing doom is on its way,
for now the Gods within both worlds
will meet their death this day.
Fenrir, the Wolf,
strains hard against his chain,
held back by father Loki,
whose anger is the fury of the spurned
and serves as fuel to see this Asgard burned. There, by his side,
Surtur leads Múspell's sons,
the giant holds his flaming sword on high,
to send destruction outward
so that the Gods may die,
while the Midgard Serpent eats the sun
and spits its venom to the sky.
So on the fields of Vigrid,
beneath the coal black sky,
the Gods and Giants welcomed death,
as one by one they died.
Now with the deadly battle done,
the blood pools on the snow
and silence falls upon the land
while tragic dirges grow.
Oden, Thor, and Loki,
the Serpent and the Wolf,
Freyr and Surtur,
Garm and Tyr,
and Heimdal lay as proof,
that death will come for men and God,
for giant, dwarf, and troll,
and war,
no matter what the cause,
will take its deathly toll.