Forging a Writer

Forging a Writer

Wordsmith am I.
My craft I know.
My trade I ply
by forge-fire glow.

And scathing spark
oft touch my face.
Kiss’d in the dark,
I hold my place.

My muscles quake.
My eyes are dry.
The heat does bake
the tears I cry.

In silence, birth,
by hammer’s ring,
steel from earth
my soul I wring.

By anvil’s clamour
I shape my art
I raise my hammer
and strike my heart.

Of pieces that fall
I beat the blade.
My bread is gall
e’er I be paid.

Pass me through fire.
Perfection I need.
A sword of desire,
for this I bleed.

Softling dear,
burned I your dreams?
Shame, I can’t hear,
above mine own screams.

Two posts in one day? Say it ain’t so! Well, I was randomly inspired to write about what it means to me to be an author. I usually don’t spit out stuff that rhymes so this was interesting.

Author: Ethan Kincaid

Ethan Kincaid was born in 1985 in Ontario, Canada. He graduated from Carleton University in Ottawa with a degree in Linguistics and a minor in Japanese Language. After finishing his education, he settled down there with his wife Kaitlyn and became a full-time writer. In 2011, he moved to Montreal and discovered its vibrant writing culture. In 2015, Ethan moved to Helsinki, Finland with his wife; he works as a creative craftsman and part time author. The greatest joy in his life lies in helping others find venues for their own personal expression. View all posts by Ethan Kincaid