Blacksmith Blues Song Novels & Stories

[Family-chainsmoker] Family I know water that's thicker than blood That's deeper than love with my friends People come and some people go And some people ride to the end When I am blind, in my mind I swear they be my rescue, my lifeline I don't know what I'd do if I, if I'd survive My brothers and my sisters in my life, yeah I know some people, they would die for me We run together, they're my family When I get up they gon' be high with me I'll say forever my family My family I'll say forever my family My family I'll say forever my family Stolen dreams took our, our childish days Still, ain't nothing changed now we're grown We're still young, still got our mindless ways In a timeless phase,

— declared the red-haired blacksmith. — You'll have more time to work for us! You stay here until breakfast, don't you? — asks the skinny long-bearded blacksmith whom I give the coal bag. — I will do my best to help! —I answer and give the gray-haired blacksmith the copper bag. — With men missing, even half a man already helps! — He answers. I now had my anvil and hammer. My task was just to put pieces together and heat the metals, but I have to admit that a blacksmith's job is very cool! Turning the iron rod into a sword or shield is difficult and tiring, but cool.

…Everybody's runnin', but half of them ain't lookin’…It's goin' on in the kitchen, but I don't know what's cookin’…They say I gotta learn, but nobody's here to teach me…If they can't understand it, how can they reach me?…I guess they can't, I guess they won’t…I guess they frontin', that's why I know my life is out of luck, fool!…Been spendin' most their lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise…Been spendin' most their lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise…Keep spendin' most our lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise…Keep spendin' most our lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise…Tell me why are we so blind to see…That the ones we hurt are you and me?…Tell me why are we so blind to see…That the

The voice of the metals continued to scream as the hammers of the blacksmith descended upon them. The screams only stopped to a hissing sound when the men imbued them into the water pan beside the metal table, and resumes their previous beating. Those clatter and noise from the anvil could cause the ear to bleed. It’s been hours since they came here, yet none of the three blacksmith had fashion any reasonable weapon. It was as if they were toiling in vain, or were they doing this as a hobby?

“Our local blacksmith is a very mysterious Slayer, full of surprises, but a good fellow. He isn’t from around here but everybody adores him just the same. Oh, and have I mentioned he’s blind?” “Blind?!” Temujin and Aki echoed. “Oh yes, that’s right. Completely, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t challenge him to a spar though on account of that, for he can put any able-bodied Slayer to shame. Also, he very much prefers a simple and private life.” “Oh, I’ve heard of this blacksmith,” Sasha jumped in. “He’s the one who makes most of the blue Slayer suits by cooking the tree-drops in a stove. Somehow he knows how to combine fire and wind techniques.”

His eyes wandered around the circle. "Perhaps we were right." A pause. "Perhaps we were incomplete." The young man in the silver cloak remained unmoved. "Incomplete ideas destroy worlds." The blacksmith shook his head. "No." "They build them." His scarred hands rested upon the table. "I've forged thousands of blades." "But I've also forged plows." "The fire was never the enemy." "It depended on what we chose to create." The musician quietly touched the strings of the silent violin. No sound emerged.

So here I am, standing in the doorway, watching them moving together in harmony as they use the roller brushes to smooth light gray paint on the walls. I smile, listening to the two of them singing together. I don't know the song, but they sound good together. Jeremy points his brush at Bron and sings “Well, I know a lady, that's down on her love.. cause I used to hold her and have that special touch.. but work took me away from home late at nights.. and I wasn't there, when she turned out the lights..” Bronwen sings “Then both of us got lonely and I gave into lust.. and she just couldn't live with a man she couldn't trust..”

Just before she could change the music, Lee stopped her. "Nope, I love this song" he said. She frowned playfully and shoved him lightly. "Can we get going already?" An impatient Red said, tension hanging heavily in the air. Lee grinned and turned on the ignition. In a few seconds, we were hitting the road. The silence was awfully uncomfortable. I kept stealing glances at Red who was clenching and unclenching his fists rythmically. He turned to look at me, stormy grey eyes meeting mine. I didn't know I'd held my breath as a result of how intense his gaze was.

They called their club “The Devils Advocates.” The leader of the gang’s name was cash, and he was humbled long ago when they were all sentenced to live out the rest of their days in hell. They reminded me of a traditional motorcycle club with Cash being considered their “president”. His name is Cash probably because he literally has a voice that sounds just like Johnny Cash. In fact, he sings all day long as they hammer away at the hardened lava rock. The clink of their pickaxes and the beating of drums played by some Jogah made for an interesting show. Cash and his gang most always had an audience that came to listen to him sing. Right now, he sang “Folsom Prison Blues” by none other than…