The Hearth I Could Not Hold

Tabis of Lorn, a name like a sigh, A whisper beneath a soft twilight sky. His frame was tall as wind-worn stone, And in his gaze, the calm of home. His skin bore the shade of the Bay-rel trees, Amber eyes like autumn’s breeze. We met in dust, on the Jeret road, Where camels groaned and merchants strode. The sun was cruel, the journey long— But he made silence feel like song. In quiet steps, in gentle hands, He held my heart like shifting sands. He slowed the beat within my chest, Made time itself feel like a rest. Three bends passed by, as soft as breath, With not a brush of war or death. But wanderers are rarely still, We chase the storm against our will. The fire that burns behind my name— It could not dim for hearth or flame. I rode through frost and fire and flood, And often came back stained in blood. He waited long—but in the end, He needed more than I could lend. He found a woman, calm and true, Who stitched his dreams in shades of blue. With her he built a home of grace, Where love grew slow and filled the space. No rage he gave me, no regret— Just parting words I won’t forget. “I loved you more than you could stay— But some loves bloom then drift away.” Yet never was I far from view, He made me family, steady, true. At winter feasts and summer’s cheer, They kept a place and poured me beer. Their children knew me as a spark, A wild wind singing through the dark. And though our hands no longer met, My love for him has never set.