The Emerald Sea

This poem was inspired by an exploration adventure deep within the Tuna Hästberg mines, and was originally published as a twitter thread.

Everdeep beneath the ground
there is a hall of evernight
Where echoes chant the slightest sound
and shadows stalk the smallest light

The brave and foolish venture there
aquest to find the emerald sea
It’s surface made of dreams and fear
it’s depths of eldritch poetry

They drink thereof to learn the craft
to spellbind with their tales and lies
Each mortal who dare drown within
the ageless sea behind their eyes

Their price, however, for this gift
is nevermore to rest in peace
But desperately weave tales or drown
in floods of stories if they cease.

The Shadowsmith

I read about the artists
who sold their souls for skill
in trade with darker forces
that always have their will

I read the works of masters
now long lost, gone and dead
and relish in their worlds that now
reside inside my head

I too have struck a bargain
not once but now and then
where souls have been involved to
make sharp enough my pen

But I don’t need dark forces to
inspire me to write
I smith my words in shadows
so what I need is light

I meet them at the crossroads
and listen to their plea
I grant them inspiration
and they inspire me

And as they build their artworks
I work on my own draft
inspired by their fervor
in practicing their craft

When thus wrought masterpieces
have reached their final line
the authors of those stories
become characters in mine

For nothing is as perfect
to make my stories whole
as to lock in them a mortal
who has volunteered their soul

And thus my inspiration and
the sharpness of my pen
depends on souls of artists and
the vanity of men

So meet me at the crossroads
and sell your soul tonight
I smith my words in shadows and
for that I need your light