He Was So Pure

The blacksmith's call came in last night Startled from bed and full of fright Pressed into service, make a sword Adorn it, sharp, they'll live no more Sweat on his brow, he worked all night Pleased his swords were his delight He set the jewels, for extra measure I must honor the master, 'tis for his pleasure Finishing touches, the master arrived He paid his wage, his eyes gleamed wide A long road, then, atop the hill He drew the sword, held high and still He pierced His side, now death for sure And then came forth a blood so pure