Born in the Fire #ballad #epicmusicword #music

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The forge was dead, the gods long gone,
Dust on altar, rust on song.
But hands still moved, and fire still rose,
Where silence gripped and no wind blows.

Sweat and flame, the anvil's cry,
Steel remembered how to die.
Sigils whispered, glyphs aligned,
Old and broken, now redefined.

Born in the fire, born in the dark,
Shaped by the will and the hammer’s spark.
Ashes to steel, from ruin to name—
What was lost is whole again.

Born in the fire, with blood and breath,
Tempered by sorrow, reforged from death.
It’s not the blade that makes the fight—
But the hands that bring it back to light.

Ritual words and sacred oil,
Memory bound to heat and toil.
Each stroke rang like fate declared,
Each ember a vow someone dared.

The fang returned—not as it was,
But stronger now, because it was.
Not just a weapon, not just steel—
But something forged to hold what's real.

Born in the fire, where silence reigns,
Where the ghosts still guard forgotten plains.
Brought back by those who would not yield—
To stand again on the waking field.

Born in the fire, in Elar-Nir's breath,
Where the forge gave back what defied death.
This is the price and this is the song—
What is broken can still belong.