Alchemisland

I spy longships and corsairs coming

In my horsehair shirt running

From viking apocalypse

Lots of noise coming out of Clonmacnoise

Monks slaughtered altars despoiled, carried away farmers’ daughters

Psalters purloined, marauders overjoyed at plunder’s ease, back eastward

With steaming rufous or flaxen beards, black-eyed and scheming

Arrayed like demons in gleaming mail shirts, helms lined with amber beads

Axes which a Nephilim would struggle to wield swung easily

Lower a man by an inch or sixteen, halved foes blight the field for years

After the battle, Angles died like cattle, Vikings fierce in wolf spasm

Bodies fed into a great chasm, burnt as a great sacrifice to Odin-Pan

Whilst cranky hit my bearded foe a steely blow, downed him, leg stanky.