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Lane O Aug 2020
Words can strike like swords,
leaving wounds that time can't heal;
They scar the heart and soul,
more so than iron or steel.
Nidhi Jaiswal Aug 2020
Love is like true Magic.
And Magician have beautiful Art
To steal someone's Heart
Magically,
Their soul and mind
with so much kind
That's another wants to find
So,
Love is like true Magic.

đź’–đź’–đź’–
"Love is like true magic to steal someones heart"
Their soul,mind everything
Love is like true Magic.
đź’–
love magic..beautiful art..steal heart
izi Jul 2020
I am a hero beyond imagine,
Soft velvet red cloak, the medallion resting in my throat,
My heartbeat stomps through my ribcage,
I am here to rescue the princess.

I trudge through the forest and I remember,
I remember who I was before when I came here,
Cape swishing at my ankles, feet in gilded armor,
I grip the glittering blade between my hands.

White marble penetrates the darkness,
I march up to the mossy stone wall, the crooked, tarnished sign,
“No trespassing,” it says, and suddenly
I am standing at a fence, copper, russet, faded gold.
Barbed wire tangles like Christmas lights, family dinners,
I remember and my heart aches.

I see the shrine, the elegant masterpiece
of quartz and precious stones,
I remember the way she used to stand at the bottom,
Defiant and angry, she threw rocks and never shattered,
It’s only a pile of pebbles, grass, dirt, in my eyes
But to her, it was the world and more.

I have to remember I am not her anymore,
What was her world is no longer mine.
I see a possibility, an opportunity, a path,
I take one last glance and I know it is the only way.

I am Prince Charming like no other,
I slice my way through the bushes,
I am arrogant, I am of diamonds and steel.

The green crisscrosses like a net,
I realize someone must have put up a new fence,
I see paint cans, old bottles, moldy shoes.

I see the life that once was my existence,
And I turn around and climb over that wall.
Softly touching down on the carpet of twigs and needles.

The trees wave in the dizzy sky,
The dragon’s snarling mouth is the last image I see,
Burned into my brain with a fiery blast,
Suddenly I am thrown backward.

I stand in front of the tree,
There is something tied in its branches.
I lift my sword and bring it down,
It is just a slender branch.

I place a boulder the size of my heart, my fist,
I flee because I am a coward
I may be a prince but I live only with jewels,
Not the stench of blood and panic amidst battle.

I am here to rescue the princess,
But I can’t even rescue myself
From the past that seduces me.
Am I a hero beyond imagine?
3r4th Jun 2020
My skin of steel
Battle-hardened
Decades-old
But yet to break

Like precious few
She comes in
I still don't know
What she will bring

Then a warmth
Starts to grow
Sets ablaze
My firey soul

Before I know
What is happening
Flaming steel
Dripping off my skin

What remains
No regret
But the burns
Not quite healed yet
Alicia Moore Jun 2020
Let us change the course of our kismet
By dividing our steel tongues
amongst the crowd
And spitting upon the roots
with sonorous rage.
Inspired by the BLM movement.
Poetic T May 2020
The cover never tells the truth,
          for every story... has papercuts
when you've turned the page.
             Every fable can tell a tale,
some sweet as pie, but not all apples are
syrupy, some putrefy from the core.

For this cover shows her reading,
while rabbits playfully play.
   Not one for ill suspense..

The book was different ways to
          cook rabbit, she knew they
attended this spot.
              Know your pray,
          Remember that to be at ease
gives them a false sense of passivity.

Now when your ready, make your move..
  
The best practice is to scare, for a moment of
uncertainty will make then scatter in directions
                                                    not uniformed..

With that she slammed the books pages together,
    startled bunnies ran in all directions...
The ground around sewn with steel teeth
awaiting
        gentle steps to snap shut...

She stood up proud, that the book was true,
     not all tales are fairy tales some are truthful.
As a few were still squirming, she did an act
of kindness,  the book heavy as it came down.

The family will feed well tonight,
  she had to wipe off the fur
but there were plenty more stories
of  how to capture and create
                                          that fairy tale meal..
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
The Shape of Mourning
by Michael R. Burch

The shape of mourning
is an oiled creel
shining with unuse,

the bolt of cold steel
on a locker
shielding memory,

the monthly penance
of flowers,
the annual wake,

the face in the photograph
no longer dissolving under scrutiny,
becoming a keepsake,

the useless mower
lying forgotten
in weeds,

rings and crosses and
all the paraphernalia
the soul no longer needs.

Keywords/Tags: shape, mourning, bolt, steel, locker, memory, memories, penance, wake, keepsake, memento, rings, crosses, paraphernalia
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch

What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?

Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.

For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on—
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven
Amanda Kay Burke Jan 2020
Stuck behind steel bars
Glimpses of stars
Just concrete stone
Cage is home
Nothing justified or fair
Total corruption there
Time will pass and eventually
The day will come when you are free
What I imagine jail is like
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