The Beast You Never Name

In the valley where the black fjord bends, old bones sleep under ice and

sand. Elder at the long house, fire in his eyes,

said there is one name you never try. Ash on his

fingers, maps in his scars, he'd sailed every storm and

chased falling stars. But when we asked what ends all games,

he bit his tongue, would not say the name. Do not wake

the beast you never name. Teeth of stone, a throat of flame.

Mountains bow, the sky turns red. One wrong word and the world