AN: This came to mind after reading of Kvothe's forming, the "beginning of his story".

Death Bestowed

A child's nightmare

Cut from the cloth of reality

Binds he fear of life

The loss of love

More tightly to the soul

Of the dreamer

Than hope shall ever know

The darkness of terror

Steals the breath from one very lungs

As silent scream issues forth

A horror unthinkable

A sorrow so old its name has been forgotten

Swaddles the child in a cold comfort

Reaching forth and embracing the lost one

With a shadow of love filled arms

From the freshly dug grave.

The haunting melody of a song never sang

Fills the child's mind

Blood caked fingers strum mindlessly

Along the lutes tightened stings.

The voice of a fallen angel

Reverberates through the child's soul

Lulling him to a fitful sleep.

Words of power,

A poem of fear

Wind their way into the child's heart

Never to be forgotten

The silent litany

An unspoken eulogy for the many dead

A goodbye to innocence never spoken

But cast in stone and bound to iron

As the boy's heart is hardened.

A child may lie

In the tear dampened leaves

But the heart of a warrior awakens

As the man stands

Fear shall never again tough his heart.

Emotion will never again cripple him

For his father's song

His mother's name

He will go on.

By knowledge and sword

Will his fury be given flesh.

With blood and bone may the debt be paid.

Never to join in death's peaceful slumber.

Till the shadow is lit

And the nightmare lies

Never to rise again.

AN: Even if you don't know the story hope you enjoyed the poem.