It is not the city air that ignites the forge It is the wind the that weaves through the souls of its people It is the spark that lives in the artists heart. And the Blacksmith, mighty Blacksmith. Sets all into motion. So I place my dreams upon the anvil. Apprentice & Master ****** hammers as fire forges the heart. Blacksmith, He who breathes the wind that flows through all righteous ambition. The desire to create. The desire to change. City. It is good to be back. The coals are burning.
comments and suggestions welcome :) result of returning to my home in the city.