Smoke, billowing from red-hot coals. A world held together by fastenings of our own design. The smithy churns out diamond-sharp blades that cut and sever, but also bind.
Always us, through night and day:
Eyes wide open, flaming stars,
Loving true, loving right,
With fingers sweet to soothe our scars.
A solid grip through toil and play;
We walk as one on steady feet.
No burden vast, no torment may
Our compact break. Two hearts, one beat.