He thought…..
I see you would go now….If you could,
But wait my little warrior,
You have never touched the dark,
Nor the emptiness and cold,
Noticed the difference….So stark…
The instant mind change from young to old,
Don’t let your curiosity better you,
Stand your ground,
To yourself be true,
Choose your “Peace”….Solid and sound, and your time,
For it will come, when it is right for you,
To journey ………Through the Myrkewood.

Once again, the Viking is standing by the window space,
Watching white fluffy clouds against thunder black sky,
Engaged in a seeming deathly race.
The darkness that is Myrkewood, in the corner lurked….
Darker black on shadow black.
He reached up, covered space with the heavy cloth window sack,
Wolf regarded him with worried eyes,
Wind now picking up, beginning to whistle,
From previous gentle sighs,
And…behind his dark blue eyes….
A darkening mood…A darkening colour….
It matched the stormy skies…..
As black as......Myrkewood black…….