[ WP ] You were a soldier in a future conflict , until your heroic death . Now you face the battlefield of the Ragnarok of Nordic myth , with your full war kit .

For the following poem, I chose to write in second person view. I chose to use tercets for the format, with an A, A, B scheme. The inclusion of mythology and the story arc of the person living the tale were split about half and half. 
 
 *** 
 
 
 Your battered hand raised aloft; 
 Blood soaked clothing, feeling soft; 
 The dimness in your eyes, from a memory far away. 
 
 A future looking quite bleak, 
 As glory, you came to seek; 
 No medals were found out there, on that battlefield of yore. 
 
 Now the darkness, you have found, 
 Your body cold on the ground; 
 Towards the light you begin to trek, your whereabouts unknown. 
 
 On arrival, you look down, 
 Slowly, on your face, a frown; 
 On your body, your tools of war, ready for use again. 
 
 You scan around, right away, 
 Now you see, to your dismay, 
 You have been cast amongst the fray, between Aesir and Giant. 
 
 You take a knee, and reload; 
 High above you walls explode; 
 Fenrir rips forth spewing death, while Odin casts lightning down. 
 
 Aiming high, you wound Loki; 
 Yggdrasil, shaking world tree, 
 In the distance, you watch in dread, as it ’ s leaves burn away. 
 
 Your gun jammed, and now failing; 
 Gods run past, their arms flailing; 
 The death of existence is nigh, and you ’ ve seen it firsthand. 
 
 The plains of Vigrid, now, gone; 
 In the distance, a new dawn; 
 From the water, a world reborn; Yggdrasil it ’ s anchor. 

