Poem Fragment

A story, in the back of my mind, grows, and tonight a part presents itself.

The gods, in time before, their seeds had scattered round
among the race of men. Those Midgard sired sons
their fathers’ count’nance showed, thus parentage destined
a Thorson’s rise above the rest. This demigod
possessed the god’s ardent passion, yet not the frame
to well contain the thund’rous inner roll transferred.
The giants of the north likewise their children spread
among the disp’rate earthly tribes, sowing chaos
and war. The mighty Thorson lead his brethren forth,
and so the world could not contain the blood spilled ‘tween
the two factions. No hope, it seemed the land of men
was doomed. Then Lokison was born with silver tongue.