Under the ship-of-night (moon)
a lone head-twister (owl)
was watching a figure
sitting near a bane-of-wood. (fire)
The rune-caller (wizard)
sat deep in thought
he had lost his mind’s-worth (honor)
the proclamation was swift
banishing him to his death
in this weather-of-wolves. (harsh winter)
He had no options left
reaching into his bag
he brought forth the dragon’s-bile (poison)
put it to his lips and drained it.
A draught-of-giants (sudden realization)
came upon him
one more spell was cast
his uncut-thread (destiny to be fulfilled)
was not finished here.
Under the ship-of-night (moon)
the lone head-twister (owl)
flew off into the night
seeing with someone else’s eyes.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.