I was forged in fire and gold,
Raging in my blood lays generations of strength beyond years.
I am a child of the earth,
It's beaten crust trampled upon by warriors who carried my cry,
I am ferocious as the wolf, barred teeth and viceous snarl.
To test me is to test fate.
For Gold will always be more than silver, yet know I will not bend as fast as the metal you bleed to.
And though the furnus hot my blood with virtuous precision will remain calm.
But do not test the wolf, just because it lays unmoved, you may not know the strength it carries.
The flesh it burns.
Do not test the theory of fire and gold.
YOU ARE READING
Salvaged Soul
Poetry"The mind is a beautiful servant but a dangerous master" It said "so i must then let it serve my soul" I whispered A salvaged soul is not new, it is old. It has lost and is still losing but is no longer who it was when it first broke. To be one step...
