RedRavenPoems

A story I’ve learned, from times long gone by.

One that may bring a tear to your eye.

This is the tale of how the world was made,

The fate of Ymir, on that fateful day.

Ymir lived long in the spacious lands,

Where once deep Ginnungagap ran.

Now a plane of frozen icy sands.

He ranged far and wide, he slept without care.

On the milk of Audumbla did he fare.

She licked frozen rine for her share,

But a cruel fate would soon be laid bare.

First his head, the next day his face.

After this the whole man, of a new race.

Not a Jotun like Ymir

One instead he should fear.

A God he was, Buri his name,

This tale his place of eternal fame.

A child he had, his name was Borr.

An ancestor of the mighty Thor.

Borr took a wife from Ymir’s kin.

Her name was Bestla, and here the end begins.

Three sons they had, part Jotun part God.

Odin, Villi, and Ve. These names live on for eternity.

They grew to be mighty men, Greater than all before them.

They watched Ymir all day, and night, for the time they knew would soon be ripe.

This land was theirs by all right, so Ymir’s end was now in sight.

Together they set forth on this quest

Against the three, Ymir did his best

In the end it was for naught

His demise by fate was sought.

From his blood came the sea,

Deep and wide for all to see.

From his flesh, they made the earth,

His bones they gave the mountains girth.

His teeth boulders and stones would be.

His hair became the greens things that grow, like trees.

The skull was placed upon high,

There it became the heavenly sky.

Brains town out and flung up high,

We see them when the clouds drift by.

Eyebrows made into a fence,

Keeping Midgard separate, made great sense.

This is how the world came about.

I tell you now without a doubt.