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Jessica Oct 2020
The cipher knows what to say
He decodes us all of our days
Sitting in a dark room eating poisonous mushrooms
And remembering a virtue
that he lost
But he never misplaces the key
The one that opens all things
And in the place of empathy he has costs and pay outs
He smokes a pack a day of lies
And tears he never appears to cry
But in the blackness of his heart
He careens into the white walls of the populace
He sees a thousand patterns
In place of moral standards
And who needs common decency
When you leave your window open
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
The Stake
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Love, the heart bets,
if not without regrets,
will still prove, in the end,
worth the light we expend
mining the dark
for an exquisite heart.

Originally published by The Lyric

Keywords/Tags: love, heart, regret, regrets, stake, prospect, prospecting, mine, mining, motherlode, heart, exquisite, silver, gold, platinum
Elliot Prusi Mar 2019
The crumbling, earthen stones,
over which I clamber entrap the ghosts
of those who left before their time.
The cool, glassy tunnels through which I crawl
threaten to give, and bury my corpse
beneath the boulders and rubble.
The creaking catwalk to which I cling
sways ever slightly in the absence of wind,
teasing my toppling doom.
The mammoth steel drums
loom heads over mine, their rattling
and rumbling ceased decades ago.
The rotting apricot timbers
wedged into the endless darkness,
no longer support the tonnage of slabs
hoisted higher than my eyes will find.
The wrought-iron machinery
long stopped in time,
lies warped by the weight of gravity.
The soaring windows
spider-webbed and shattered,
litter the floor with their fractured bones.
And the walls and floors
and ceilings and doors
that once bustled with the liveliness of labor
lie silent.
Written by a man inspired by the beauty of old, abandoned mines.
Zachary G Jan 2019
What brings might?
What is it that makes you fight?
What is just,
What is right?

Why are we fighting
Why are our children dying
I’m buying time
Now I survive by mining

Mining my hopes
Sawing my dreams
Breaking knees
Sweating on the breeze

Hopes gone
Family lost
Dinner on the table
I have not...
Rebel wars if they lose... thought for food
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2018
People are here.
I reach out deep within
to the place of various hue and vibrancy
to paint it in the air and on me
but that place is empty.
You can hear them if you listen
When the wind blows in the night
The people who once lived here
Who are gone now, out of sight

The buildings, many shuttered
Housed ten thousand at it's peak
Now empty, vacant, skeltons
Once vibrant, now, so bleak

Silver once was mined nearby
Thousands flocked here for the chance
To strike it rich, be wealthy
Uninvited to the dance

For all that comes with promise
The devil comes as well
With money comes temptations
As the small town starts to swell

Business and homesteads
Spring up where once was none
Lawlessness is rampant
The law is by the gun

Saloons, hotels, and harlots
Soapbox preachers, grab your purse
We all cannot be winners
That is just the boom towns curse

Like a zephyr in the desert
A boom town changes in a flash
Prosperity will vanish
And so does all the cash

The boom town dies as quickly
As a flower in the snow
Scattered now back homeward
With nothing left to show

The earth takes all she's given
The buildings may still stand
But, the mines are all now empty
There's no value to this land

Listen to the voices
The wind let's them sing out
You can hear them in the darkness
That's when the locals all come out

A ghost town is a relic
It shows the best and worst of man
So, listen to the wind now
Hear their stories if you can
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