AN: This came to mind after reading of Kvothe's forming, the "beginning of his story".
Death Bestowed
A child's nightmare
Cut from the cloth of reality
Binds he fear of life
The loss of love
More tightly to the soul
Of the dreamer
Than hope shall ever know
The darkness of terror
Steals the breath from one very lungs
As silent scream issues forth
A horror unthinkable
A sorrow so old its name has been forgotten
Swaddles the child in a cold comfort
Reaching forth and embracing the lost one
With a shadow of love filled arms
From the freshly dug grave.
The haunting melody of a song never sang
Fills the child's mind
Blood caked fingers strum mindlessly
Along the lutes tightened stings.
The voice of a fallen angel
Reverberates through the child's soul
Lulling him to a fitful sleep.
Words of power,
A poem of fear
Wind their way into the child's heart
Never to be forgotten
The silent litany
An unspoken eulogy for the many dead
A goodbye to innocence never spoken
But cast in stone and bound to iron
As the boy's heart is hardened.
A child may lie
In the tear dampened leaves
But the heart of a warrior awakens
As the man stands
Fear shall never again tough his heart.
Emotion will never again cripple him
For his father's song
His mother's name
He will go on.
By knowledge and sword
Will his fury be given flesh.
With blood and bone may the debt be paid.
Never to join in death's peaceful slumber.
Till the shadow is lit
And the nightmare lies
Never to rise again.
AN: Even if you don't know the story hope you enjoyed the poem.