The Forge

The slumbering giant within these eight stone walls. Iron headed and divine. He speaks in crow riddles and decides the fate of the small men of bronze. Deciphering the questions contained within the throne and the scepter, the crown and the meat house. Ancient writings, the ravings of the eons, crushing, debilitating. The slumbering giant within these eight stone walls. He dreams of the Mother. Of how the small men of bronze would dance for her. Building the fires with the weakest amongst them. Waking only to drink of the water within these eight stone walls. Immediately resuming fitful iron headed slumber. The slumbering giant within these eight stone walls. He spent his youth at the forge within these eight stone walls. Wide awake and bearing the weight of his Iron head. Forging the thrones and the scepters, the crowns and the cleavers. Humming the songs that made the bronze men dance. The forge's fires were stoked by the weakest amongst them. The slumbering giant within these eight stone walls. One day he will wake for water and not return to his respite. He will hear the songs of the bronze men, and feel the warmth build in his forge. The Mother will tell him his time has returned, she'll send it in eons, in crowns, and in meat. He will begin the humming that inspires some bronze men to dance around others that burn. He dreams of the Mother constructing a door.