Grendel was a mara that served a darker fae,
A terror Master Doll Maker that stole babe’s breath away.
And every night Grendel was forced to escort home,
A tiny life that had been freed from tiny little bones.
Precious was his cargo and long would be his journey,
Before dawn Grendel had to rush and he had to hurry.
In through the nightmare woods and back to the tower,
Grimm and in despair, Grendel would cower.
Before his Dark Maker, upon her table he laid,
Each tiny vial – another debt that had been repaid.
Grendel watched the Doll Maker take each tiny light,
And to the scale she measured to get the taste just right.
For those she would devour only the sweetest would fit the bill,
And with the rotten apples another position would be filled.
Grendel had once lived – as a vile rotten boy,
Until he begged and pleaded unwisely for the Maker’s toy.
And now his light was trapped in this grotesque and little form,
Bringing new souls to the Doll Maker to devour before the morn.
Beware the Master Doll Maker and this sad tale of Grendel,
Do not accept her cursed toys or your life will dwindle.
