In the roots of Yggdrasil, whispers begin, Nine worlds diverge, shrouded in myth. From the fires of Muspelheim, to icy Niflheim's wind, A cosmos born from chaos, a celestial rift.
Through the realms we ride, the echoes of the brave, Midgard to Asgard, across the cosmic wave.
Nine worlds align under the mighty tree, Bound by fate, for eternity.
Darkness cloaks the hidden land of Svartalfheim, While light dances in Vanaheim, serene.
Jotunheim's giants, lurking, grand and grim, And Alfheim's elves unseen, in dreams they gleam.
Helheim's whispers, where the silent dwell, Bifrost bridges the realms, a spectral spell.
Gods and mortals, their destinies entwined, In the fabric of stars, their fates aligned.
Through the realms we ride, the echoes of the brave, Midgard to Asgard, across the cosmic wave.
Nine worlds align under the mighty tree, Bound by fate, for eternity.
Above all worlds, the world-tree stands alone, Guarding secrets in its boughs, etched in stone.
Through the mists of time, their stories unfold, In the nine worlds, where legends are told.