Burnt and darkened by fire’s light
Forged from the ashes of laborious hours
Bold to the point of being brass
Fortune favors the bravest at heart
Who have a warrior’s song within
Sculpted into a celestial metal
That craves blood and warfare
With every sharpening of the blade
It will have the names of its enemies
Engraved in a ruddy red
Plated with imprudence
So stubborn in its arrogance
That it will never settle in being
Only third place in the world
When it is laminated in brazenness
-Kel Dayheart
Fragment of a Figment 
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