Blood Sword

Blood...Bang, Sweat...Bang, Birth...Bang, Life...Bang, Death...Bang...The Dark Smith raises his hammer and hits the Anvil again and again and again. His hands darkened and calloused, his hair soaked with sweat, and his face darkened by coal. His screams and tears unheard The Dark Smith hit and hits and hits the Anvil. He curses and shouts in rage to no avail. The Dark Smith hits and hits and hits the Anvil until his last breath. He slumps on to the ground, the hammer clutched in his dead fingers, his pain unheard.