The Last Chariot for Valhalla

By Gray Davidson

The last chariot leaves for Valhalla tomorrow.

I'll be on it,

Or clinging to the traces,

And running alongside.

I'll stay with the Valkyrie,

The blissful charioteer—

All the way from here to there.

Through the lands of glass,

Where all faces are frozen in frowns,

Through the lands of fire,

Where corpses writhe a tortured dance,

To the symphony of screams,

I'll stay strong.

I'll stay strong,

Through the lands of no land,

When the juggernaut of paradise,

Scale flawless cliffs of blue gold,

And descends slopes in prismatic glory,

As it might rive armies, hoards

Of chanting foes.

Finally though,

Somewhere in the jungle of slicing rocks,

Or the net of scathing vines,

I'll grow weary,

And lie to my rest.

Closing my lids

On the last fleeting image

Of my charioteer,

Lady of grace

And last hope

For Valhalla.