Introduction

I am here to craft stories and poems,
to reach the soul within your mind.
Wiggling my orcish fingers
behind your unseen eye.

Your body and soul are yours to keep,
but come, rest here at my rustic forge.
Let the words sink deep.

My orcish voice rasps and hums,
my words and your inner voice
stretching the mind’s membrane,
a melody carved in thought.

I seek to bring solace to your day,
to remind you softly:
Not all those with scars are fearsome,
not all wounds last eternal.

Wounds will heal, scars remain—
so, please join me here at my rustic forge.
For I am orc,
and we are scarred lore

So please leave a comment of my work someday I wish to publish when I reach my desired word count. This is all a rough draft of the book of souls. Have a great day at the forge.