the eye of oden

up there on the mountain, above all fire, the fields down there and the ravine below, where the elements feast in reckless desire, a raven is seated, where the sun cannot reach, only terrific storms prevail, in a thunderin' havoc they ruthlessly roar, my heart it beats the pulse of ancient times, the countless rhythm, the rattling stones, my weapon cleanse the filth of all bones, tender are the havens, which remain on the open plains, the shadow crawls, upon the resort of the remnaints, even toward the hills lie shattered shields, the winter it hunts all their hearts in fear, and the river drifts with the resolution of thunder, infernal are the storms in which our shelter stand, their strongest grip of fear, and our shelter tear, up there on the mountain, above all fire, the fields down there and the ravine below, he beholds a kingdom of grace, savage yet fair