Balrog

Blackness wraps around, peering down, dark before the dawn.
The rarity of stillness, and the calm before the storm.
Still no more, spark reborn, a stone flint through perception.
A pin hole light ignites awakes through careless misdirection.
It stirs, it purrs, it echoes and croaks,
Reflecting off the cavern walls.
Through the glow small strands of smoke;
It wisps, then plumes then pours.
The vista of the floor grows ever wider with the light.
The bones and clothes of warriors who’d failed to win their fights.

The Balrog’s eyes are opened as the flames begin to rage.
We meet again, ugly friend, preparing to engage.
But first let me admire you, respectfully in fear.
After all, the only reason that I come down here.
Not for the stench that fills this cave,
The staleness of the air.
Nor the markings engraved
Or the scale of this vast lair.
I don’t desire the fight,
Won’t revel in the challenge.
I’m tempted by the light,
The sight of power and I binge.
And I’d binge until my skin is crisped, bubbling and blistered.
I refrain up to the moment, the voice inside me whispers
“You’ve stayed here too long.
“You’ve strayed too deep
“Strongly bite your tongue
“And send him back to sleep”

The beast at its most beautiful preparing to defend.
Reluctance builds but failure guarantees a blissful end.
But an end nonetheless and I’ve got dreams to seed,
Seeds to sow, sows to feed, feeds to grow, grows to weed.
Depended and relied on, no time for reckless games
But when I go pot holing, the Balrog spreads his flames.
His molten whip crack laps,snaps, smacks and attacks.
My strength may well be flawed but you shall not pass!
We battle through the fire, through the water, through the snow,
Until the flame’s distinguished and his corpse is still below.
And I lie just besides, awaiting my rebirth.
The Balrog stays dead until I reignite this curse.
Soon.

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