I am a blacksmith like my father was.
I bear his name with pride,
Yet this path is my own.
A path people are afraid of,
One beyond their little world.

Eyes have gathered around me.
Some because of admiration,
Some think I've lost my mind.

Iron glowed within the furnace,
Red and warm, just like my heart,
Prisoner in a cage of stone.

My bare hand reached into the flames,
Freeing this inert mass of its burning lair.

A swift glance at the afternoon sun
Before the hammer fell.
The detonation rushed through the hills,
Swarms of crows elevated from the forests.

The hammer lay silently.
Only my breathing broke the quiet.
The eyes came closer.

A heartbeat emerged from under the hammer.
It was done. I eventually had defeated fate,
This living piece of metal was the proof.
It never stopped beating.

I closed my eyes,
My knee hit the ground
And I smiled,
Impatient to forge again.