The Stoker of the Flame

The Stoker of the Flame
(Collaboration between Chris McDaniel and Dom1n1ck of the Writers-Network.com)

High in a mountain retreat
We are bound to meet
Some call him a myth
A spirit in the mist
Cloaked he does remain
Doling out his pain
Stirring human hate
Twisting the hands of fate
The maker of strife and war
The hands of death behind the door

Must find this nare-do-well
To silence the hound of hell
I must stare evil in the face
When I find the place
Ready to play a deadly game
Stands the Stoker of the Flame

I clothe myself in armor
and ask the blessing of the Martyr.
I begin my search in the east
looking for the lair of the beast
Over ancient gray stone
and through keening wind, all alone
I search for the demon without a face
the last of his wicked race

My search seems in vain
until I find a sage clothed in chain.
“If you are certain of what you seek
look upon the western peak.
There where the mountains never rest
you will find the end of your quest.”

In his crystal sphere, he sees me from afar
Sends his evil minions with instruments of war
Pitched battles fought by day and terrors at night
The Stoker of the Flame knows not a fair fight
Six years it takes me to reach my destination
Battle hardened and tested by this depredation

There is no surprise and no fear in his stance
As he turns from the cauldron and picks up his lance
A fiendish smile washes over his grizzled face
“You have chosen to die, in this very place”
Fire roared behind him, flames licking from the sky
The ground shook under me, as he let out a fiendish cry

I drew my battle-worn blade,
and lifted my worn shield, unafraid
my foe charged, fury burning in his eyes
I deflected his weapon, a blow to pierce the skies
and responded with a furious stroke
that split open his mail and the smoke.
My shield was no more,
I tossed aside the worthless metal and with a roar
built up over six years, I rushed
my nemesis. Stones were crushed
and the ring of steel split the air
but in the end, in the darkness of his lair
The Stoker of the Flames met his demise
as my sword pierced his heart, and ended his lies.

Finally, my long quest has ended
but something caught my eye
the flames had begun dancing, it was splendid
the beautiful colors, but then they began to die.
I could not allow them to fade
so I grabbed some wood
and began to feed them, it was my only desire
I had to protect them, they were so misunderstood
So I became the Stoker of the Flame

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The Stoker of the Flame

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