outside the hut, the storms have come, the fury of nature outside, the force of man resides within
the furnace fills the room with waves of heat, the iron sits within heating to white hot
thunder cracks sending shockwaves through the trees as the rain pounds the roof
driving the hammer over and over, sweat rivulets flow freely down ruddy cheeks
the mighty oak stands strong against the wind, a splintering as the trunk splits
the strain of the the blows sending sparks showering into the soot covered stones
the supple branches of the willow dance among the winds, lashing through the air
the metal is folded and hammered, then folded and hammered again
as the flood waters rise, the once gentle stream swells eroding the banks, washing old trails away
damascus steel folded into sixty layers, heated to a deep orange, quenched and hardened in oil
as the tempest grows outside, hurricane conditions reshaping all it touches
a file runs down the edge, a proper hardening no bite into the steel, razor sharp and deadly
a fork of lightning sizzles into earth, an explosion spraying rock and dirt like shrapnel
the blade whips, slicing silk tossed into the air, the leather wrapped hilt supple to grasp
the fields of wheat now swampland, marsh where verdant fields once lay
a work of art, crafted for one purpose and that is the spilling of the blood of an enemy
the dark clouds part and sunshine dances along the horizon, a gentle rainbow arcs into the distance
war is a constant, the weapon crafted by a bladesmith to be used by a master swordsman
a new thunder approaches outside, the hooves of a warhorse, the promise of doom draws near
a bag of gold for an implement of death, two masters, both artists of steel, one creates the other kills
off the coast a new storm forming, the wars of man meaning little to mother nature
the sword will break, the arm that swings it will weaken, the wielder himself will turn to dust
and still the rains will come, the winds will blow, and the river will reduce the rock to gravel
but the forge still spits out heat, and steel will become pliable, and the down the hammer will fall
A different feel to this one! Very nice!:)
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it was just about forging a blade and I hated it. So I added the storm forging the world. Then got all depressed and hated it all still but posted anyway
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Haha I’m glad you posted! I like it.
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As long as someone enjoyed it, my writing has been trash lately. Worse so than normal. feels like I lost the taste for words
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I can’t agree! I’ve enjoyed your writing lately! But if you feel that way… your taste will return!
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