The Cottage of WireEach step, each breath, each blink of an eye, each thought in his mind, drew him closer and closer, to the cottage of wire.Stumble forward little child. Your fate awaits, in stake, in red as paint, A tapestry of skin and vein.The town below, the trail of mud, Towards his hut, he thought it safe, To mock and hate, the man of pain.And so he stays, a chain, a blade. His only friend the utter shade, of other plains, Of broken fables and untold tales.