Although the prompt `wrought‘ was last week over at Velvet Verbosity, here’s the poem:
Strike (The Iron is Hot)
Wrought in the fires of destiny,
Is pain, suffering, ecstasy, hell,
And wrought in the fires of destiny,
Is love, joy and passion.
Into the depths of forged dreams,
Struck hot. Sealed with an iron kiss.
The time to move forward is now,
With a dream higher than heaven.
The soul of all souls.
The dream of all dreams.
The dream life.
All starting with blue ink on pale paper.
Truths confined behind narrow opaque lines.
It peeks out,
Without cruelty and Without care,
We seek for the best way forward to our destiny.
Copyright (C) bardicblogger / a thinker never sleeps / Teri Montague 2012.
All rights reserved.
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