The Mimic's Tavern

I rolled for survival through the freezing dark

Fleeing the forest that left its wicked mark.

My armor was heavy, my spirit had bled,

When I saw the soft glow of a tavern ahead. 

I dropped all my weapons, I laid down my sword, 

I paid for my keep from a desperate hoard. 

The hearth fire crackled, and the ale tasted sweet. 

I finally had somewhere to rest my withered feet. 

But the warmth was a lure, a clever disguise.

I ignored the strange shifting, a trick of the eyes. 

The floorboards were breathing, the hearth hid a jaw,

The most beautiful illusion that I ever saw. 

I sought out a haven to shelter my bones, 

But the tavern was built out of teeth, not of stones. 

I traded the wilderness just to be blessed, 

By a mimic disguised as a place I could rest.