There is a burnishing of the soul
How it hurts
Scraping away the etchings of the past
There is the forging
Dipped into fires too hot to withstand
And then pounded by fate
Dipped, and pounded
Finally thrust into to cold water
The worst though
The worst is that moment of being chopped into pieces
Melted into a featureless brick
Placed on a shelf for later
Centuries pass
Until there is need
Fires and forging
Molded and shaped
What will I become this time
Burnished until gleaming
