I walk on two feet
And know fire and steel
My name: Smith of Chains
Suffering much pain,
And mocked, travelled here,
Complaints on deaf ears,
To this place: cold, dark
With blood it is marked
As home of the wolves
To shatter myself full’s
A meal, this my goal,
For brave and noble souls
Which kept beauty, never trading
With the disgusting
Creatures named humans.
On a lazy afternoon I strolled
Grasping between fingers a mirrors shard
Heads in cloud, a black raven flew and stole
Precious puzzle fragment, reflection barred
Now I wander without face, lost pilgrim
Searching for the temple of the ‘bony Roost
‘During strange frosts and fists, for chance of singi’g
An offering; Return my other self!
They caw and laugh, toss glass from high above
Gave back my soul, shattered in dozen pieces
Made aware- emptiness gift- of what _ owe
Now _ wander without dread, aware all ceases