The Fire I Harbor, Gala Starling ⭐️

The Skagerrak boils, its charcoal skin torn, As if Fenrir's great jaws are seeking the morn. A howling that isn't the wind or the rain, But the growling of voids to sever our chain. The Norns, as they spin their grim tapestry's thread, Have woven this distance, this path that I tread. Their loom, built of shadows, has written the lore, To banish my spirit far from your shore. I trace the cold ash of Yggdrasil's bark, Seeking a passage, a light in the dark. I carved the old staves upon splintering bone, But the roots of the World Tree have made me alone. Yet magic is hollow, and witchcraft is weak, Against this profound, burning torment I speak. No runic script, not the thread that's been spun, Can equal the heat of my love, never done. Though Fenrir should devour the sun and the moon, And the Norns cut the thread of my very last swoon, No void is so violent, no fate can compare, To the fire I harbor, awaiting you there.