ILMARINEN'S STORY

Inspired by the Finnish legend of Ilmarinen's woman of stone, of silver and gold

She shines like silver in the night
Thy work, thy art, thy love, thy might
Kissing the soil you bravely start
To build her with parts of your heart ( intro by Walkyrja)

Ilmarinen, Hero of a land! Long journeys haven't helped at all to calm thy wicked heart and now thy love cannot rejoice in any maiden's voice, in any blissful colour of the sun not even in the young years on the run, and down you go with fear into the abyss of the fallen ones who have it all yet do not know where it shall take them by the end of times.... 
 Now, the night has set her wings of protection upon you as you work hard without a stop, without a blink, without a sigh... How can you work without closing your eyes, your beautiful blue eyes at least for one second to look inside yourself? Or are you just not there? It's just mechanics... The work of hand four soul is given to gold, to stone, to silver, to her the one that shall be yours, the queen of all the wars the lady of your dreams, the maid of all your tears. 
  Your hands are bleeding like the hands of destiny, of purity, your face is red with the delight of power and prosperity as stars unite upon the sky to bring supposed lucidity and thus thy greatest work is done, the smile, the cry, ferocity... Her golden hair, her silver lips, her metal eyes her little wings the detailed features of the moon the brightness, hours of the gloom, thy kiss, devotion for the gold and her affection of most cold for there was no one to have told thou age was yet by far to old to think creation can revive with cuddles and a carving knife...
Extravagance and elegance suffocating exhuberance the nonsense idle's inocence thw worker's meserable defense... You stand bewildered by untrust wondering how long shall it last till she may hold thou in her arms, till she will rise to show her charms. But there is nothing to it all but coldness in thy enormous hall the sound of ouls sad and severe the morning sunrise and the fear.
Covering face with both thy hands the magic moves away, a dance, another cry of terror strikes and blood does not drop from thy bites.
She has no voice she has no pain she has no heart she has no name... she's cold she's bad she hurts she stings and unobserved it's you she kills... Thou moves along a lonely path hammer in hand and thoughts of wrath and thy work falls into bits.. No more sweet tears no more of this...
"You did not love my mindless art. I made you but had not for what. You answered to none of my calls. Be gone down where the river falls! Down where the water quietl is, down when there's none to hear thy tears. Down I shall throw you down you'll go... Down there where no human has to know"...
He takes the wretched in his arms he throws her down and her he drowns. His renegade still doesn't cry. She has no way and reason why. 
He knows that nothing had he meant , that for him nothing had she felt and then he looks again for love and for advice from gods above....

Ilmarinen, I cannot say a word about you, not just now... You're cruel and dear to all that breathes but you chose to give your heart to the lifeless... I'm down the lake, the thousandth one writting a story that may run from here to an eternal line of suffering, of wish and sorrow, of days of past and of tomorrow, I'll paint your work with words of honor until my last and darkest hour....


NOTE:
THIS IS A KIND OF METAPHORICAL POEM WRITTEN IN A POST-MODERN STYLE ( AS YOU CAN SEE THE VERSES AND RHYMES ARE NOT ORGANISED IN A DEFINITE STRUCTURE) I HOPE THAT YOU SHALL ENJOY THE INSPIRATION THAT I EXPERIENCED WHILE CREATING THIS LITTLE PEACE OF POETRY WHICH I SEND WITH LOVE AND JOY TO ALL THE HEARTFUL WHO CARE TO READ IT.
MAY YOUR DAYS BE SUNNY!
MAY YOUR NIGHTS BE STARLITE!