Emberborn Heart (duplicated)

Forge-Heart ​In Emberborn, where the ground is glass, And skies are choked

with iron dust that passes For twilight, love is not the morning dew,

But molten ore that fire must push through. It doesn't bloom like any gentle vine;

It is the heat that makes the mountains shine. ​Our oath was breathed not on a summer

wind, But where the bellows roared and sparks ascended. A thousand suns

could not match that first touch, A flash of volatile, destructive much— We burned too fast,

our edges raw and bright, Before the hammer taught us how to fight.

​The years they came like cooling lava flows, Turning bright flame to banked and steady