#sagafortaylor

While I read my runes,

a thought comes to me,

the drakkar sails slowly,

dodging the sea’s ice.

And I think sincerely,

that if I could make a wish,

it would not be riches,

it would not be power,

not even a kiss from you.

What I would wish, without doubt, without fear,

is that you, sky-eyed one,

had never been broken,

that your gaze had never clouded,

nor a single tear had fallen.

And if in return,

I had to change,

to not be the man I am now…

I would do it, without hesitation, without regret.

For seeing you happy is what matters most.

And if you break… I break with you.

There was a time when the sky was not hers.

The gods, proud and ancient,

saw her shine among the stars

and feared the loss of their dominion.

She, with a song of fire and honey,

made celestial thrones tremble.

Then came the ravens,

they shattered her lyre,

stole her verses,

tried to cloak her in silence.

But they forgot one thing:

stars are not dimmed by rage,

they burn brighter with every attempt.

And when all seemed lost,

I, a wandering viking in the middle of the night,

felt in my chest the warmth of a sun I could not see.

It was not a god.

It was her.

And her light —reborn from divine scorn—

showed me the way.

My North Star.

The one not even the gods could extinguish.

It's not just a poem — it's the root of everything I've written.

The promise of a broken soul that learned to stand… and chose to love from the wound.

If you're reading this, thank you for making it this far.

The Oath of the Shield

They called me strange,

pushed me down the stairs,

and threw me into fear.

Five against one.

And a teacher,

with a rotting soul,

shoved my head into filth,

and the memory still burns.

At thirteen, I wanted to disappear, without glory,

because I couldn’t understand

how the world could hurt so much.

But then…

you appeared.

You didn’t know me.

You sang for millions,

but one of your songs

reached my open wound—

not to close it,

but to hold it.

Since then, I’ve followed you.

Not out of obsession.

Not chasing a foolish dream.

But because my soul,

broken but still standing,

decided that if it ever loved,

it would be the one who saved me without knowing.

Today I write,

not to beg for your attention,

but to vow—

as a Viking would to his goddess—

that all I am

belongs to you as a shield.

No one steps on me now.

Not because I’m strong,

but because I learned to rise.

And now,

if the world ever dares to hurt you,

know there is a man

who would take off his armor

to give it to you,

and fight bare-chested

for the peace in your eyes.

Because even if you don’t see me,

I’m here.

And even if you never choose me,

I already chose you.

Odin appeared on my drakkar,

after following me for a long time with his ravens.

The god of wisdom and poetry

looked at me with a mixture of interest and wonder.

—Viking, I have watched you.

I know your voyage is impossible,

and yet you leave runes torn from your soul

along a path she may never see.

Why?

I smiled and replied:

—My soul chose her many winters ago.

Not to claim her,

nor to make her mine,

nor even to see her up close.

It chose her to protect her,

even if she never knows of this humble warrior.

Sometimes love does not need to be returned

to be true.

From my drakkar I will keep crossing uncertain seas,

only to pay her my respects

and guard her happiness from afar.

For not all warriors fight in wars…

some fight from the heart.

And if it is impossible, so be it.

But let her be happy.

Odin said no more.

He departed in silence,

but with the gaze of one who understood every word.

They say some dreams are born knowing they won’t come true,

and yet they bloom...

like flowers growing among ruins.

I never asked for this longing.

It came on its own, like the sea to the shore,

like a sigh in the middle of insomnia.

You, so far, so high,

so much light in a sky I can’t reach.

And me, chest open and soul barefoot,

writing like someone tossing bottles into the ocean.

I don’t expect you to come.

Only that the wind, one night,

might carry my name to your window.

And if you never see me,

if my drakkar sinks before reaching your harbor,

at least I’ll know I dreamed of you

without fear, without measure,

like a madman loving the impossible

with all his heart.

In skies without compass,

through battle cries and endless frost,

there’s a star that doesn’t fade.

It doesn’t flicker, it doesn’t run, it doesn’t fall.

It remains.

When the runes fall silent,

when my shield trembles in my grasp,

that light—her light—

reminds me

there’s still something sacred worth fighting for.

It’s not the sun or the moon.

It’s older than both.

It doesn’t light roads,

it lights faith.

It doesn’t warm skin,

it ignites soul.

She doesn’t know she guides a drakkar

that’s crossed endless winters

just for the echo of her voice.

And even if her world

considers me impossible,

I’ve already kept her in mine.

Because some loves

are not shouted,

they are held.

Like a star,

that even if no one looks up...

still burns.

I don’t know who will find this…

but if your soul stirs,

you were meant to.

From the North

I didn’t learn to love from stories.

I learned to love through battle.

With mud on my skin and a broken back,

but a soul still standing.

Waiting for you.

I’ve crossed years like glaciers,

with your nameless name

carved into my blood.

Without seeing you,

you were already my compass.

Without hearing you,

you were already my song.

They say vikings don’t beg.

And I won’t.

I just came to tell you I’m still on my feet.

That my shield was shaped for you.

And if one day you feel the ground tremble,

it might be me,

pulling the string.

I’m not looking for gold.

Or thrones.

Just to know you’re okay.

But if fate brings you close,

and you see fire in my eyes—

don’t run.

It doesn’t burn to hurt you.

It burns to protect you.

And if you don’t choose me…

I’ll keep waiting,

like someone who knows some battles

aren’t won by shouting,

but by believing.

I have lived through a thousand storms,

and none have bent me.

I have bled in verses,

yet still I stand.

A thousand knives have cut me,

and turned into scars.

I have fought armies alone,

and still I walk.

I have faced a thousand trials,

only the gods know.

I have kept silent, I have shouted,

I have let go of what I loved.

But the fire never dies.

I live among melodies,

distant dreams,

impossible loves,

lives from another realm.

And in the head of this Viking I know:

it is worth loving from the other side.

Time does not quench, it strengthens.

Far from surrender, I keep sailing.

They say “toward the abyss”;

I say “toward your embrace.”

One day it will come, the runes foretold.

Our names written,

too many coincidences.

Whatever happens, it’s not in vain:

I’d rather burn with you

than live anesthetized.