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  • Writer's pictureRachel McDonald


They wore chains,

Around their necks.

Warrior’s jewelry was their claim.

A chunk of Iron marked them as special

The sole creature

Who could touch the metal.

Twisted DNA wrapped up in a necklace

Shimmered from each chest,

A piece of glory in a dust-ridden story.

Strange gifts from the Iron,

Controlled by their strong bonds,

They could make a man rich.

Her -

steps throbbed with her people,

Never would betray them.

He -

knew not of this living heart,

Or the power contained in a fuse.

They were lovers until he asked -

“Why do you force iron around your throat?”

It ties me to my people, a clasp.

He watched her go,

He, a monster with eyes green,

Eyes on a precious power to steal.

Late in the night,

Her people were crying, fighting,

They were all dying.

He stole her -

her family -

her brother -

For the chain held strong,

He took their bodies instead,

Toil in red hot chalk sung like a song.

He made them dig in the dirt,

Mine the Iron made only for them,

Amassing it all from thirst.

He raped her.

She died.

He won a prize - the metal she mined

Why didn’t they hide?

Could they not run?

No, a power kept them inside.

The necklace,

Their pride,


It held them to their captor

Made them bow,

And mine the IRON ORE.

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