(NB. What is this in Prologue 3? All shall be revealed soon I promise)
Plodding back
To where it came from
Wet in hushed anger
Wrought in clawed fingers
Cradling threads from
Almost forgotten myths
Carved once upon a time
On silvered stone
In broken tongues
It waited
Sloping nearer
And near slightly
Swallowing its rage
For just a few minutes more.
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