This is about the aftermath of a battle. Everybody’s taken for dead, so the victor leaves. One guy isn’t so he gets up, see’s nobody is there. Then he wants revenge because he has been deserted.
The blazing red sun hung over the battlefield as if it were hell.
The fallen lay in an eternal slumber.
But among the sleeping many,
one stands from the mounds of the perished.
With eyes of ice, the Nordic warrior took in the sight of the great armies.
While he lay others deserted him,
leaving him for dead.
Ice running in his veins and a scowl on his face,
he yelled in an ancient Nordic tongue.
“I WILL RETURN.”
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