Forge of Fear
Why for oft' aflutter in fear, oh oftener of the fiery forge forelorn,
By which binds in bronze of a metallurge, wears the neck around ye sworn.
The anvil awaits the hammer whose smith has struck with arms embraced,
Round lo flames and fumes of fuels and stones 'ave been together laced.
Dragon's breath and salamander's sighs have cloaked the masked basilisk,
And stirred within each waft o' swirling smogs a smock with a wooden whisk.
Heed my warning, oh oftener of the fiery forge forelorn,
For around ye neck-laced choken neck wears what I do warn.
Copyright © Brendan J. Simons | Year Posted 2017