Contest

By Cliff Lake

 

Contest

 

Long dark and fear at the edges,

He barely remembers the name.

The sharp sword and ancient pledges,

None but he left to quench the flame.

 

Sorcelor’s word and promise made,

He must travel the unclean way.

Grace deferred and the bounty paid,

Of the final price, who can say?

 

Cold-hearted and a colder life,

He chosen for the lack of heir.

Bold martyr, he will face the strife,

Though none maybe to mark him there.

 

Infernal rage, risen to burn,

Who better to face reddened scourge?

Last of his kind, his resolve stern,

Will he earn the funeral dirge?

 

The foe before him, grown too bold,

His reckoning draws to him near.

No woe deters him, grown too cold,

Battle beckoning without fear.

 

Icy veined, and his sword in hand,

Red fury seems an overmatch.

The burning bane, he makes his stand,

What fee can his achievement catch?

 

The fiery clash, they now meet,

Neither will stall, neither will run.

Frozen soul and devouring heat,

They will not break ‘til it is done.

 

His cold, so cold it freezes fire,

Each other they now both consume.

Nothing but this could he aspire,

Peace for the living may resume.

 

The tale now told, the matter said,

The unnamed hero gets his gain.

What troubles have we just ahead,

And can we find his like again?

 

Cliff Lake 1/15/2026

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2026

 

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

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