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I actually quite like how this one turned out. My main goal was to both encompass the heroic foreboding of such a scenario, while still combining the realism and unpleasantness of such a profession. I also tried to leave a very up-in-the-air feeling to the ending. I hope you enjoy!

Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms, suggestions, or relevant baking recipes if you’ve got them!


Mountains rise before me,

Rivers mar the glade,

Songbirds shun the rising slopes

Which pass into the shade.


Ice has cracked the scabbard,

Time has browned the plate,

Scars trace every line and bend,

Seldom flowing straight.


Rays of sunlight shirk me,

Strong until the last,

Shunning fields of broken limbs,

All that was has passed.


Ashen skies above me,

Blood to mark the way,

Dead men litter fallen snow

Like rats caught in the hay.


Lifeless hands still skyward,

Reaching out in vain,

Frightened men extinguished like

Candles in the rain.


Smoke to choke the senses,

Heat to blacken skin,

Billowing from cloistered den,

Home of Fafnir’s kin.


Molten stone assays me,

Glimmering with light,

Red against the cavern walls

To hearken coming night.


Silence reigns around me,

Naked steel is drawn,

Banging ‘gainst the wooden guard,

Prayers for the dawn.


Sword to welcome flesh and bone,

Shield to stay the mass,

Thund’ring dragon charging forth,

All that is shall pass.