The Viking Goddess

[Verse 1] In the dawn's early light, by the cold northern seas, Stands a maiden of iron, with the calm of the breeze. With hands that wield needle and sword all the same, In her heart lies the fire, of the old gods’ flame.[Chorus] Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form. [Verse 2] Through the whispering pines, and the clash of the shields, She harvests her strength from the wild, open fields. From the feasts of the hall, to the battles in the fjord, Her spirit unyielding, deeply adored. [Chorus] Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form. At the hearth, she’s a keeper of tales and of runes, Under the moon’s silver glow and the midnight sun’s tunes. She weaves the stories of old, with threads gold and blue, A tapestry rich, with the courage so true. Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form [Verse 1] In the dawn's early light, by the cold northern seas, Stands a maiden of iron, with the calm of the breeze. With hands that wield needle and sword all the same, In her heart lies the fire, of the old gods’ flame.[Chorus] Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form. [Verse 2] Through the whispering pines, and the clash of the shields, She harvests her strength from the wild, open fields. From the feasts of the hall, to the battles in the fjord, Her spirit unyielding, deeply adored. [Chorus] Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form. At the hearth, she’s a keeper of tales and of runes, Under the moon’s silver glow and the midnight sun’s tunes. She weaves the stories of old, with threads gold and blue, A tapestry rich, with the courage so true. Hear the call of the fjords, the roar of the fight, In the silence of snow, under the aurora’s light. She dances with wolves, and battles the storm, A daughter of Odin, in true Viking form