Black Hammer

By Riley Burgess

BOOM, the crushing fist of the hammer smashed down
Like the nearby panther crouching, its silky, smooth fur making it
A shadow in the cold abandoned night. Another stroke smashed a
Circle into place. Another blow from the hammer clashed red metal,
A king hitting the victory drum, his long beard soaked with sweat, he returned from
Hell; the war. Another beat of the mans tool, pounding on a weapon
A sword, bashed into form. Many shapes had been made under this man’s work,
Irons made and even bronze. The ringing of metal on metal broke the peaceful
Moonlight night with screeches and piercing noises. Outside, coals of red light up the
Eutruscan kings face. His beard drenched, face drawing beads of sweat,
Riticuled with heat and scars from battle. The weapon he used struck again.
Ring