Feeling reflective about his time spent at camp and exited about the time he has gotten to spend heading the forge, Dirk decided to write a poem expressing gratitude for the blessings he has received and to state his lack of any regret for how his life has turned out thus far. I'm not sure what style of poetry this would be but I decided to write it an an alternating style of long sentences and short sentences.

These Are My Friends



A lonely blacksmith’s son am I, no more worthy than the rest.

A thankless task is mine indeed, puts sanity to the test.

Even in camp of royal blood, the labor is the same.

Put fire to metal and stoke the passion, of battle's eternal flame.

A life like this could yield no friends.

Their forked tongues do cry with scorn.

He must yearn to make amends.

Even regretting the day he was born.

I laugh with dismissive glee, when I hear such bile spoken.

For I know I possess friendships that lie eternally unbroken.

With friends like yours, one day you shall find yourself forsaken.

But unshakeable bonds I hold with mine, loyalties that cannot be taken.

That cannot be, they say.

He has none to call his own.

All he does is slave away.

Like his father on his metal throne.

The fires that rage within the forge, I count amongst my friends.

They selflessly provide all I need as they sadly meet their ends.

The hammers I carry into battle are companions bonafied.

For they defend me from all foes, and never leave my side.

Eyes of ignorance remain forever blind.

None can see the friendships that I see.

  Open your eyes and I think that you will find.

The life I live is not a lonely destiny.

Poem written by: Dirk/Wind  

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