Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or Loki, sadly.

So my brain juices are empty and when that happens, I write small things to get myself back into gear. So, I'm writing this Loki poem for you. Enjoy.

When he was young and still in bounds,

He would wake from his dreams from evil sounds.

In the dark he would cower,

For the beasts of the shadows would tower.

As time would pass, he would grow out of this fear,

He could sense these forces as if they were near.

Growing up proved to be the hardest part,

Trembling in the presence of danger crushed his so-called lion heart.

His father would corner him, and demand why he was always so afraid,

And the son would point to where the dead bodies laid.

Father now knew that son was a killer; he could see it in his eyes.

He was, after all, the weaver of lies.

Blood will follow blood,

And fathers name would be dragged through the mud.

His name was bent, for it was not Odinson.

He could not escape it and he could not run.

All son ever wanted was to be respected,

But he had destroyed his demeanor; calm, cool, and collected.

Setting sights on the innocent, the poor, and the weak,

Watching them bleed with a face so bleak.

He now loved what he had done,

Whether he would face death or shun,

Laufeyson would continue,

Summon the power and stiffen the sinew.

Facing his demons was a talent he was perfect,

But facing his family he could not direct.

They were turned around by their heels,

Affected by the truth as their façade burns and peels.

Laufeyson is much too clever for them,

Filling their hearts with regret till it would burst at the hem.

Once he was finished, once he was done with the liars,

Laufeyson would pile the bodies and starts his fires.

When his back burned from the heat, when he could no longer see flesh,

He would stalk about the golden halls and halting at the thresh.

He had no more time for their mock,

Their time had run out and he punched the clock.

With Laufeyson you do not trifle,

To him, death is a joke to which a laugh he will only stifle.

A/N: A Loki poem that I don't think I like very much. Oh well, just needed to get this off my mind so I can do other things!