The deepest neck of the woods hindering sense,
Innocence shredded to wool, that we as beings neglect.
Conceptual towards the good that never weighs in respect,
Ravaging all that it could cause we tend to never accept.
.
.
The First Known
Across the sea's in lost travels, resonating a find,
Svavarsson; a Norse W/ a brute gavel training the mind.
Degradation in time as he never planned to stay and incline.
Desperately deprived of remittance with shrines...
.. The revolution where longships have taken over the tide.
Over in time came flóki and ingólfur settled for land,
Decisive with hands they built a system upon demand.
874, the year that sand declared a first ruling by man,
En route as slaves with possession they escaped king harfargi plans.
Noblemen; families enticed with that very clan,
Fending for life to stand as the encouraging hand.
Scoundrels amass- the loneliest one of believers,
The catharsis cathedral- sole embodiment as the heritage seeker.
Held together; enshrined for a sense of life between sleepers,
left to press on- catches song as the a lullaby keeper.
Ok, Mr. Hallgrimsson sit down... Enough with your antics
NO!.... I've had enough of people not knowing the ways of iceland... Class in session
Quote:
From the dirt of odd years we had little to no resources presented,
Thru time and effort to create certain living inventions.
Stepped away for a second, admiring the timing and outcome,
Silence of the lamb.. A treaty agreed to bring a couple more thousand.
60% of the townsmen and women derived from Ireland and scotland,
Waiving in caution as partial is intertwined with a little British option.
The first National Assembly set from dividends inclined,
A proposal to a king; to be an arbitrator of this find.
Announced as the old covenant that took the tasks and redefined,
And delved a fair outing; this was the age of sturlungs in time.
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anything else you would like to share... Mr. Hallgrimsson
That's just a brief insight of things thats rooted it's basis,
It's a mix of races that formed the most significant of places.
Golden faces with blue trims and streaks of refinement,
This place I've called home cause of my recent indictment.
Beauty, excitement.. Odd varieties that supply my likings,
Norwegian findings in almost all who came from those Vikings.
This I found in the book of confinement that she held in her hand,
My mum; the love that had settled me to know of this land.
My fingers thru her strands... One of times endless bounds,
Kissed good by then laid her down and his my face from the crowd.
A king without his crown... Tho forever more I shall be,
This is where I am from and what I was dealt with to see.
They say god has a purpose and well my purpose is for you all to know,
That Iceland is a part of history that very few others cared to show.
I am the poet behind the outfit- in Copenhagen I've set standards,
Drove nationalism up the wall and gave no meaning to public standards.
I am....
Jonas Hallgrimsson
-the beloved