The dead blacksmith

A poem about how you should always try to pass on your skills.

The hammer hits the hot metal.

A loud cling with every massive hit.

The metal is shaped with expert hands.

Every detail steadily slow, done bit by bit.

The anvil has seen all of his work.

as if it is his own personal clerk.

Giving his life to the red steel

His secrets never shall he reveal.

The greatest smith of all.

He proudly stood high and tall.

Everything, from a sword to a knife,

all created under his blow of life.

He grew old, and his hand shakes.

But his skill is for noone to take.

We only know him by papers from long ago.

as no one learned his legendery blow.

Author's Note

This poem uses a legendary blacksmith as a metaphor for all skills. It shows what happens when one does not passes on(or trys to pass on) a skill or talent one posses before he dies.

Reviews

[...]

. true that! ... so true ... in the corporate world, they call it succession planning ... but it really is the simple act of sharing ... skills, magic, knowledge ... it'd be an infinitely better world if this simple yet profound lesson was learnt ... so glad you wrote about this ... and so skillfully ... like a wordsmith ... and the picture is amazing ... very charming ...

well, a true magician never reveals his tricks.
think about it, magic is never fun once the secret is revealed.

some people like the unknown.

[ShayRad21]

This is a great symbolic poem Ry! I can picture everything as well. Very nice.