Fantasy

The play of words
a rhyme short and sweet
The silver tongue to mix
the basic of our speech
the poem or the song
to stir the fruitful loins,
inspire courage to all who hear
or make those men boot quiver in fear.
Our stories of old, retold from youth
to teach the lesson to the Bold
The Brave will take to their heart
the foolish to their grave.
All need know what deed been done
So that hero may live again
The clash of sword, and ring of blow.
All battles from before.
Our war of freedom barely won
For darkness still remains.
The tale you seek aren't mine to give
A minstrel you do want
For I am but a simple smith
Who muse inspires more then metal,
Both My tongue and voice
have also been shaped by
her to amuse the gentle nature of all.
Weapon of war I have forged
to balance the words of peace I do speak.