Forged Iron Crucible

I have been molding this burden for a lifetime
Curved in the most exquisite form
Forged to capture my molten iron will
A vessel that shall carry me to the grave

Purity through fire
Cauterize

This furrowed affliction is as arrow-ravaged flesh
Locked away in a chamber of voices
Haunted by the past, hunted by the present
Stalked endlessly by a harrow of shame

By scorn and the crucible
Scar, burn, sanctify

The ardor of scorn is an artist who paints with pure desire
The perfect scar is forged by pyre

I have been molding this bitterness for a lifetime
Cradled in the most exquisite form
Forged to scoff my molten iron will
A mockery that will echo to the grave

Purity through fire
Wash away the burden

The ardor of scorn is an artist who paints with pure desire
The perfect scar is forged by pyre and crucible