Blacksmith's Lament

Such unhappy tidings, calamitous in spirit, serve to bind us together. Tempered in the flames of our own shame and self loathing, quenched in the icy depths of isolation, we stand forged new beings.
Hardened by our trials but all the more brittle in the end.
We lash out into the world, carving our path, claiming our independence. When met with resistance we dull, then chip, and finally break.
Again to be reforged in the molten torrent of emotion we conceal from the world.