As the Sparks Sang in Their Ascent

The first hammer,
Was shaped by the fiery hand.
Held in the white fist,
It carried power.
Upheld through centuries,
By the great defender.
Conscious of.. the divine origin.
Stone of the dawn,
Creative anvil...
I command,
The dancing embers...
As sparks sang,
In their ascendence...
A new world,
Finds it's breath.