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rofan Mar 2018
like gold
like iron in my eyes
like silver heart of mine
.
like sky's we don't see
and still we get afraid of
.
like as the unknown of the stars
and as many empty spaces
and as many holes in my heart .
IncholPoem Jan 11
On  Saturday
people   go  to

  party  partly

not  give
salt
as    people  said.




O­n  Thursday
people   do  not
  give   any
iron   object.



It  is    blind  belief

    or  blind's
two   eye   operation
to  have  new  

    brightness.
Brynn S Nov 2018
Metallic kisses
Melt my lips
Each drop of crimson
Each silent drift
Blood spills
Spinal thrills
Moments of madness
Each smoke pour
Reach for the gods
You never asked for more
Rui Rosa Nov 2018
Enemies of ours that are on the ground
Hallowed be your troops
Come to us your resources
My will be done
Just like in and out of your village
The Wood, Iron and Clay of each day gives us today
Forgive us our attacks
Just as I did not forgive those who attacked me
And do not let us fall into traps
And save us from all treachery
To our king!!!
Alexander Oct 2018
Blow, white winds,
With echoes of the past.
While in your ice
Red-hot iron is cast.

Now the smith comes
Dressed in night’s shade,
Taking up the hammer
From the table on which it laid.

Strike after strike
The fire melts the ground,
Leaving a smell of familiarity
And a well-known sound.

Truth is this!
Like a branding iron
Cast into the
Cold winter ground.
Salmabanu Hatim Oct 2018
Do not complain,
Stop being vain.
You gave me love as a start,
I gave you my heart.
You gave me a *****,
I gave you a baby.
You gave me a car,
I became your kids' chauffeur.
You bought me  gems and beautiful clothes,
I became your hostess,
To entertain your business associates.
You earned and brought in money, instead
I became your maid,
I shopped,
I cooked,
I laundered,
I ironed,
I cleaned,
I tutored.
I made our house into a home,
But at the end of the day, home you come,
Strut and storm,
"All day what were you doing?"
Just because dinner is a bit late,
Or the food  is not up to your taste.
I too,had a tough day,
So cut your **** and stop your bray.
Just because a woman is a housewife does not mean she is idle at home.Running a home smoothly is not an easy task.
I will never break
I will never bend
This is who I am
The rest is extra

I will never stress
I will never worry
That's what I'll do
The rest is details

I will never weaken
I will never suffer
They are just words
The rest is a joke

I am unbreakable
I am unstoppable
I am unassailable

I am invincible
I am almighty
I am the king
This is the entirety of who I am. I would live my life over again and make the same mistakes with a smile. I would fail the same tests, I would trust the wrong people. Just to prove to myself I will never break. Whether I am alone or with 100 people, I will never break.
Umi Aug 2018
Bodies sink into the depths,
Disappearing beneath the waves with no light,
The abyss welcomes them, offers them a new home: Despair.
Driven by frustration and the wish to return home, hatred is born.
Strong enough to break through the hellish, screaming cauldron.
This is my story too, the me standing right before you, is the one who sank into the bottom of her heart, disappearing in a hole of sadness.
I won't allow you to cross these waters, not without defeating me,
Sink, again and again, the cycle never ends, war never changes.
Even if your enemy might be your very self from the past long gone,
Give it everything you got and be ruined by the fate that chains you,
With every cycle returning, frustration, hopeless rage, envy and hatred are gaining strengh, losing more and more of themselves here,
Parts of yourself vanish between the iron bottom sound, where so many have fallen before, just to protect those who they held so dear.
But what is a war worth that has no meaning but greed at all ?
The things I held dear started vanishing long ago, rusted, dissolved,
All I am is a shell of my former being.
I am but just an abyssal.

~ Umi

- M i d w a y - H i m e -
RBWhite Jul 2018
Seven Iron Crosses

Running through the lovely pain,
Seven iron crosses lay plunged in the sand,
He said he would wait.
But it is lovely, his eyes now stunned,
A good savior believes in war,
In The Old Sanctuary she stares at the ocean,
Seven iron crosses lay steady,
She doesn't know how to pray,
Spiritus forte.
There was him, but he is not anymore.
Babylon insists, his enemy interested.
Woke up in a magna desperation,
She's yearning for the ocean,
Where seven iron crosses disappeared,
She wants to go back,
Plunge into the dark,
Sweet blues and a cold temper,
If only she could be those seven iron crosses…
An old poem I wrote back in 2016. Enjoy!
Ron Gavalik Jul 2018
I came up in Pittsburgh,
the Rust Belt of hard labor
with a deep love of community.
As children, we collected railroad spikes
from the tracks and we cut our shins
on random iron shards in **** hills.
Some of us were union middle-class
and others breathed the gray air of poverty.
That hardly mattered. As we stood atop
foothills that overlooked the city skyline,
soot embedded under our fingernails,
we lived as kings and queens
that oversaw the future.

-Ron Gavalik
Hit my Patreon, you scurvy freeloaders. Patreon.com/rongavalik
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