Anvils

My thoughts are the track

My actions the train

The destination, paradise

My will is a wild fire

Purifying the land

Of my subconscious

Where fate has left its stain

My hands are anvils

As I craft my world

From the molten remains

Of love and family

And with every breath

Life begins again

As I wait like a warrior

For the flower of opportunity

To bear its soul for me

And when my time comes

I’ll hear that whistle

A my world transforms

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