A Solitary Black Sock
I.
Quaraun bent down to touch the sand,
His fingers brushed a curious thing,
A black cloth, small and rather bland,
Oddly shaped, like it could cling,
A puzzle from some distant land.
A mystery found, strange, strange, strange,
What could it be, strange, strange, strange.
II.
BoomFuzzy peered with furrowed brow,
The cloth was soft, yet oddly stiff,
An ancient relic, they knew not how,
Or why it had washed ashore this cliff,
An item lost, but not for now.
Lost to the sea, old, old, old,
Ancient and dark, old, old, old.
III.
Quaraun pondered with deep suspicion,
A magic tool, or cursed device?
Perhaps it held a dark magician,