For the past year or so, I’ve been hearing some singing –
Or maybe it’s pounding…
Perhaps more of a ringing.
Though I’m not sure what it is, I know what it creates –
Some sort of bond –it would seem… To forge together our fate.
The sound is near ethereal… It combines our raw materials.
And while I can’t seem to find precision in an attempt for definition...
It’s been playing since we met –
It’s music with no musician.
But what’s a musician to music?  We only need nature to infuse it –
We’ve got music all around us, for us to listen as we choose it.

I think we chose the sound of steel in hopes of finding something real –
For as bad as it gets damaged, a simple fire is sure to heal.
This world can be a cruel place, and we’ve got the wounds to show it.
I’ve found life moves too fast, but your soul helps me to slow it.
With how we’ve been bombarded, our steel was sure to be discarded…
But the fires gave us shape… and our work of art was started.

So a sword is what we’ll be, the finest weapon of you and me –
And although we’re made of steel, we’ll keep growing like a tree –
More intricate and divine, as we stand the tests of time.
Free to be shaped, not burned, in our metallic design.