A poem by Phil AOR

First published in ORB 200, Spring 2006

A nation of warriors,

Kings and Queens,

Of Northern Gods,

Which could be seen,

A land of magic,

Of Ritual and Rite,

People of passion,

Spirit and Might,

Who looked across mountains,

And saw eagle on high,

Bold and Free,

Against a bright blue sky,

Who felt Nature’s touch,

And had no fear,

Minds were sharp,

And thoughts were clear,

Now much has changed,

Our folk cannot see,

They grovel to Jehovah,

On bended knee,

They wring their hands,

They whimper and cry,

They look to their Heaven,

And keep asking why,

It’s because they’re deceived,

That they don’t understand,

Why the meek are crushed,

By Nature’s cruel hand,

Yet some have their Pride,

Because deep down they know,

That Odin’s Nation,

Continues to grow,

We fight the lies,

We live by the sword,

We defend our Land,

From the evil hord,

Faith, Folk and Family,

Until we are slain,

And still we protect,

We are born again,

So heed this message,

All those without Pride,

Behold the New Dawn,

You’ve nowhere to hide.

Dedicated to the Children of the Re-Awakening.

May the Light of our Gods and our Folk inspire them to achieve