From the star-sprinkled realm aloft, to the North does Odin glance,
Marks Kim's hammers in their arc, bound for Russia, by chance.
In exchange for molten gold, and the dark blood of the earth,
Rus and Pyong'ang agree a pact, in the shadow of Skadi's hearth.
In the land of the dragon's throne, where the jade emperor reigns,
Xi plots a path, deep in debt, to break the foreign chains.
Beijing sturdies for a storm, 'neath Thor's grumbling cloud,
Their ambition, like the sea, forever fierce and proud.
Trump, like a tempest brews, and o'er distant lands does roar,
Claims the Panama Canal, and Greenland's icy shore.
But the fury of Freyr rises, in the heart of the Canal's guard,
'Tis not Mjölnir's thunder strike that threatens, but a new world order, hard.
