"Deep beneath the world, a grumpy spectral craftsman works alone amongst endless wheels, strange visitors, and things that should not yet exist, while something unseen keeps adding another piece to his impossible workshop. I have no road, yet wheels arrive. I have no sky, yet shadows fly. I hammer things I cannot name, And ghosts keep feeding up the flame. A raven watches. Three sleep below. A mirror doubles what I know. Something speaks from somewhere near, Yet nothing living should be here. I turn the wheel, I curse the night, I chase the things that aren't quite right. What am I, beneath the stone, Building things that aren't my own?"
