Vulcan's Mercy
Hard-chromed and brutally alloyed
he fed the scrapyard hurricane.
Melting the metal, his brawn enjoyed
the splash of sweat cooling the pain.
The weight of the world discarded
at the foot of his furnace lit,
he struggled to make soon parted
its history, hard and fast writ …
… in twisted iron and mangled steel.
Stoking the fire, hellishly hot,
a cauldron of memories once real,
he freed the souls of things forgot.
Unthicked by his lethean flame,
smelted loose of its heavy years,
the once gritty metal flowed tame,
shiny new without smiles or tears.
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