Your life's blood stained the ground,
By the time you were found,
With those lifeless eyes
That would soon be the prey of flies.
And I looked at you
To see that it were true:
You were a man who had died so young
With an epic song not yet sung.
But in the hall of Valhalla, with a goblet in hand
Odin will rise to his feet, not to reprimand.
But to peer at you with the highest regard
Because amongst those dead and marred,
You were chosen amongst the slain.