Oh Hephaestus
Oh fiery Hephaestus of those who are abandoned. Oh Hephaestus of those who's craft isn't appreciated enough.
You, of those who fight their own bodies everyday simply to live, And of those who live for their craft.
Hephaestus of those, who struggle with family, Of those who's a child of demanding parents.
Hephaestus the father of those who seek their true calling, And those who are too much in pain to seek.
Oh resourceful Hephaestus, of students with passionate hearts And of those who learn in their own room, dedicated to the craft.
You of the disabled, of those who are experienced, and of those who are new. Of those who wish to improve and of those who cannot.
Oh eternal Hephaestus, your fire lights my path. Your hand of smithery guiding me through getting experience.
Oh kind Hephaestus, the fire in my soul burns for you, As I learn the crafts and stories, as they light me brighter.
And oh Hephaestus, you are for all. You appreciate those who learn, and guide those who don't. You do not hate, do not abandon. You don't leave the women who fight the world to be great, you stay with disabled people, who's minds are too loud to improve, and you stay with curious children, with excited adults, with passionate people, who sometimes in our society are called nerds.
Hephaestus the lame one, the one of crafts, the blazing one, the gentle one, the one of skill. You, living in arts.
I am grateful for the blessings you gave me, the path you led me on, and the one you still walk with me. My mentor, my teacher, my guide.