The last berserker

The last berserker
The end of era...

The longships beached, the axes gleam,
A shield wall waits, a frozen dream.
Harald Hardrada, proud and bold,
His Viking host, a story told.
But on the bridge, a sight to see,
A single axeman, wild and free.

Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A raging storm, a frantic twitch.
Against the tide, he stands alone,
A whirlwind of steel, a fearsome drone.
Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A hero's stand, upon the ridge.

The English ranks, they surge and press,
To break the line, and find success.
But fury burns in Odin's son,
His bloody work has just begun.
No fear he knows, no pain he feels,
Only the echo of crashing steels.

Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A raging storm, a frantic twitch.
Against the tide, he stands alone,
A whirlwind of steel, a fearsome drone.
Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A hero's stand, upon the ridge.

Some say he wore no mail or shield,
Just raw, untamed, strength revealed.
The battle trance, a fiery haze,
He carved a path through those dark days.
He held the bridge, a crucial key,
A single man, for all to see.

Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A raging storm, a frantic twitch.
Against the tide, he stands alone,
A whirlwind of steel, a fearsome drone.
Berserker on Stamford Bridge,
A hero's stand, upon the ridge.

He fell at last, a weary sigh,
Beneath the weight, beneath the sky.
But legend lives, a whispered name,
The berserker's feat, eternal flame.
Stamford Bridge, will always tell,
Of the warrior who fought so well.