Anvil
Masterless, Formless
Bound to a sympton of a sickness so old
Northless compass, only will to grow
Old and bold, time doenst made us dull


Burned so many times. Forge's flames so wild


Hammer strikes, again andagain so many times
So many that doenst come to mind
Expansion of sight, true one never goes blind
Metal smashed, anvil's hard, hammer strikes, one more time


To transform is to create, that never escapes mind


Amdist the fire a shape is seen
Round and round till it becomes a ring
The fifth, books of void, my eyes see all,  all of wich i had destroyed
Won't dull my senses, won't grow old. In the flames i died, from cold water i'd rose...