And so, I give you a few poems about Hrímfaxi.

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You're welcome!


A girl of hope, love and dreams,

Who meets a horse above all things.

She named the stallion Hrímfaxi and he comes to her call,

Nótt may slip, but he catches her fall.

She falls in love with the man of her dreams,

But Hrímfaxi protects her, no matter how nice he seems.

Anger and rage, danger and fear, death and coup.

"Go, Hrímfaxi! It is your cue!"

The battle with rush, haste and blood,

A march of anger races through Hrímfaxi in a flood.

"Kill the monsters until there is no more!"

He spread his mighty wings and he began to soar.

They fly above the last monsters' head,

They dive in, slicing his throat, and now he is dead.

And now they scream with victory and glee,

For now and forever, they shall be free!


Hrímfaxi may not be a pegasus at all,

But he is a strong horse who flies without no fall.

"Who needs wings?" he has always thought.

But once and awhile to survive, he fought.

I know I should not say words such grim,

But this is the story all about him.

He has no magic, wings or horns,

But what he does have is not in torns.

He has a friend named Skinfaxi who has a big heart.

But inside Skinfaxi is torn apart.

Hrímfaxi is a strong horse and steed.

But a war is what he does not need.


"I may not be on every page,

But you don't know my anger and rage.

So far I run wild enough.

Sadly my life can get quite rough.

I know a dragon which fire he breaths,

Which he always fights and does not flee.

He has a temper that flashes through his veins.

And his teeth are so large; they are larger than small fangs.

I am Hrímfaxi. A warrior of night.

If you want to see me, you'll need a light."