Styrisvolurin by Tyr
And whoever reigns these cliffs, did not defeat the
wind
They held the tiller when the storm broke loose
Steer into the wind, shouted one and united they
pulled the tiller, but all in vain
The course has been set, carved in stone
And are we satisfied when the tale is told
And does your ship advance regardless of what you want
They fought over the rudderless tiller
And still we hold the tiller as we
Think we are free, thrallborn unconsulted so
We all drift on the graveyard field
In desolate halls, about distant mountains
Drenched and weary by the northwestern
storm, and the winds rages in Midgard
To Asgard where the Ash stood, like the
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