An Unfurling Verse

Good and ill did shape the world,

From on high, down low were hurled.

Gods begot of pure white light,

Demons forged from blackest night.


Giants frozen into place,

That we may walk upon their face.

Creatures mild and beasts of rage,

Occupy each telling page.


Labyrinthine lore abounds,

In every word devoid of sound.

Wisdom rich for those in rags,

The thorny speech of twisted hags.


Blessing clothes the naked curse,

The healing makes the wound much worse.

Beauty’s fire not simply quelled,

And life in chains of love be held.


Things suppressed will be released,

Time’s momentum drives unceased.

Naught uncages quite like fate,

At darkest hours doth liberate.