Caught within the storm;

A maelstrom of fire and ash

yet merely known as ‘home’.

Wrapped in sure arms

that hold a mischievous grin,

Protector and herder of the lost,

God of something so pure as Chaos.

If lines in the sand must be drawn,

I stand beside who is both Ice and Fire,

Darkness and Light, Life and Death.

I will turn my back upon those

who hold my blood,

For the people I have chosen will always 

be stronger than those forced upon.

“Blood is thicker than water”, they say,

Which is true, and it is also so

much more satisfying to spill. 

I hold no ill will to you, you know

who you are; O’ Harbingers of Battle,

But if you call to rally arms,

I yet remain in the ranks of the Shadows.

I have always believed The End to be

a cycle, perhaps metaphorical;

Always ongoing.

Yet you have called to me,

Told me to abandon who stands at my side 

when you yet refused.

My loyalty is stained in my own blood,

I will not hesitate to stain it in yours as well.

Fate be with you, O’ Bringers of Pain,

For Ragnarök is a cycle; a wheel

to spin again and again.

But eventually a spoke breaks

and the wheel crumbles;

So be careful where you stand,

For my line is drawn and my side is chosen

And I will not leave my family,

Blood-bound or for naught.