In the gods' forge of mankind's blade,
The humbling darkness stirs.
And from the mist of light and shade,
Comes a dancing firebird.
The flames leap freely from her wings;
Alighting upon the soot-black snow.
And from the sparks come the kings,
Then the knights in the afterglow.
The falling embers break and fade,
And a firedancer is born.
Of him the gods are very afraid,
For he wields the firebird's scorn.
But gentle is his radiant heart;
Kind is the flame on his fingers.
The fire he kindles is his art,
And pictures in smoke tend to linger.
He dances with his mother bird
Under the starry cloak of night.
Hot as dragon's breath are his words
As he weaves his stories bright.
The people call him the firedancer,
And he dances with it even for kings.
But his secrets hold evasive answers.
Only for him his fire gleams.
YOU ARE READING
Tales from the Dark Caves
FantasyCome 'round, night's edge draws ever near Gray twilight gathers dark and drear. The air grows brittle, howling, and cold, So heed these tales arcane and old. From beneath the mountains, where magic thrives; From burrows dark, heartless, and dry; Fro...
