he steel is untainted
Broken wood repaired, tBlaksmiths working day and night, the steel remains pure
There was a pigeon watching, amazed
How could that very matter, heavy and without grace is taming the wind?
The wood is broken again, too weak, too fragile to hold the weight of examinationÂ
The pigeon shivering, its feathers shaken by a single revelation
It was not the wood or the grey steel,Â
It was the human spirit against each complication
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