The Saga of Aislinn and Ragnar

At Valhalla's gate stood Aislinn,
a maiden deemed most fair,
sunset captured in her hair.
There she came upon Ragnar, too handsome to ignore.

But he, though young, had already met his Fate.
Aislinn called upon the power of love,
and looking to Norse Gods above,
there she did implore, don't open Odin's door!

Some Gods said best, to let things be,
but Goddess Var heard her plea,
and let Valkyries wander free.
Lifting Ragnar up, they made him as before.

A timeless dragon breathed its fire,
Ragnar's village it did burn.
There was no way for Ragnar to return.
So, taking Aislinn as his wife, they fled to distant shore.

There they lived in peace, and raised their family.
Their love, sweet as any honey tree,
was clear for all to see.
So strong it was, and mighty, as the Hammer of God Thor.

They grew old together, into the winter of their lives,
happy with the life they made,
their love, it did not fade.
And though their eyes grew hazy, the twinkle did endure.

One day, his axe-head ceased its bite,
the silence drew her eyes,
then to her ears arrived his fearful cries.
Her love no longer stood as was, had fallen to the floor.

She ran as fast as she could run,
and raced to Ragnar's side,
there, she held his head and cried.
Fearing she would lose her love, she trembled to the core.

Place my sword into to my hand,
was Ragnar's last request,
he knew he must be brave to pass the final test,
and pass through Valhalla's door.

Aislinn held him to her breast and thanked him,
for all the love he gave.
Love itself, required one be Brave!
She could think of nothing else to say, nor ask for any more.

Two black-plumed Ravens flew o'er the pair,
a sign that sealed his Fate,
they knew Ragnar would soon be at Valhalla's gate,
and pass through Odin's door.

Aislinn knew a way to save him,
but kept it in her heart,
she knew that it was up to her, to keep two worlds apart,
lest all she and Ragnar built would fall back into lore.

Sometimes love can mean, never letting go.
But greater love is when you know you have let it go.
And so for greater love than he would ever know,
Ragnar breathed his last, and died upon the shore.

The bane of wood kissed the pyre, the oarless ship was cast,
The wind was up, the tide was lee,
and carried him to sea.
I write this Saga for all to know, a Viking named Ragnar once came before.

***************

Here upon a twilight dreary, while I ponder, weak and weary,
two Ravens wandering o'er the Nightly shore--
Tell me ancient bird, how long shall Ragnar's love dwell upon this craggy shore?,
Quoth the Raven, "Evermore".