The Frustrated Blacksmith

This immortal
Enjoys shaping metal
Into invincible armor
The fires of hell itself
Act as his bellows
His pig iron is
Primordial ore
Born in supernovae
Like anyone who truly loves their labor
He is supremely happy, ecstatic even
Despite the heat
And the humidity
Most of the time
Still there is one thing
That this god wishes he could do
But has failed at, and not for lack of trying
He is unable to lift one eyebrow at a time