mining
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Iram, Lost Iram
Lost, alone, and wandered scars
Scrutinizing time
Thunders rise and soon take flight
Tinted skies with essence sighs
My grandpa was a coal miner in 1923
living in a land eroded to dust,
sweating until black paste stained his face
The sliver of your soul
That I knew so wholly
Was forged below,
But ever so softly.
And fairly maid,
I cannot help but steal your love,
Or for your life,
