He has fallen in the East,
Nothing for the Valkyries to pick up
but bits of flesh.
Still he dies a warrior,
a soldier to the end,
Room awaits him in Valhalla.
He strode into battle proud,
his dusty boots
beating a path many have gone before.
He carried his rifle,
and kevlar shield,
trained to kill;
and kill he did.
Don't cry for him, no tears are needed,
rejoice his meeting with Allfather,
speak his name with warmth in your heart,
he fell on the field of battle
on a path many have gone before.
His brothers will carry on
his memory and his mission
He will await them in the Sacred Halls,
with mead on his breath
and a smile on his face.
He will await them in a place,
many have gone before.

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