Hammer Upon the Anvil

The heat The steam The light, It sears into my mind. No longer can I see the walls that surround me. This sword Is death Given shape That shape is light! Impossible to quench, The water evaporates. This is Sil’vir most raw. Spoken: I lament for those who this will be used against. Agony and power Brought forth. What have I created! This nightmare given shape. I must prevent What is immanent. Stunt the power Before it is full. Shrieking: Entomb the light! With enchanted fabrics Entomb the light! The blade shall still cut, The edge is not sharp. This is the power of Sil’vir, When brought forth and made most raw! Oh!