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Obsolete
The anvil lies cold,
And yet the hammer waits to strike
The elusive iron
That has seen no thunder in days.
In a dark, damp corner,
Stroking a fire, he sits,
That no one sings to summon.
And...
And yet the hammer waits to strike
The elusive iron
That has seen no thunder in days.
In a dark, damp corner,
Stroking a fire, he sits,
That no one sings to summon.
And...
