The forge

A working forge is a sight to behold
It blazes with a heat hot enough to mould
Take the material, and with enough skill
It can bend to form the forgemaster's will

What then, of a forge that's gone cold?
No more mastery or feats to behold
Ashen memories of what used to be
Scuff marks and battles and old cups of tea

It's not too much work to keep a forge going
Add in some fuel if you see the fire slowing
But an empty forge that's heated no more?
It's just a record of what has come before

Unless, unless, with great effort and fight
A master returns, along with a light