Words of The Lamb magazine

“Iron wrought by skilled hands,
Beaten sharp by force and muscle,
Angrily smoldering and smoking,
Annoying the water pot,
Molded into sharp edges and flat crowns,
Are lined up in order.

By ranks these jagged creatures
of the deepest earth and mountain ravines
are traumatized and tortured
into weapons of war and tools of misery.

Iron to arm the infantry,
a professional soldier with a
kill count scarified on his arm,
and a snarl gilded gleefully on his face
by years of abuse and warfare.
A slave citizen, as free as the armor allows.

Iron nails trained in a crucible.
Iron men smithed by emperors.

Iron dragged by men at war with the earth,
then painfully shaped, violently formed;
bastardized by hands knit for service,
meant to shepherd the land.

Iron hammered into nails,
Driven into the limbs
of a Man so powerful,
“The earth cries out in praise to Him.”