3 result(s) for Gold Mining Miner Poems.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
The Silent Shaft
Beneath the hills where gold once sang,
the shaft gave way with a thunderous clang.
No lantern glows, no pickaxe rings,
only the hush the darkness brings.
The miner's voice, once bold and clear,
now dies in stone and settles near.
His echo falls, then fades to nought,
like dreams that gold had never bought.
Deep in the rock, the veins lie still,
while tunnels hold their broken will.
The mountain keeps its glittering prize,
and swallows every hope that dies.
Yet still the silence seems to say:
the earth remembers every day.
And in its quiet, cold and deep,
the gold and miner both must sleep.
The Price of Gold
The river glints with promises of gold,
A shimmer that the weary miner sought.
He digs through clay and stone, both young and old,
And trades his strength for every flake he caught.
The lantern sputters in the tunnel's gloom,
While dust and damp ride heavy in his breath.
He counts his coins by light of his own doom,
And dreams of bread while sleeping close to death.
The gold gleams bright upon his calloused palm,
But never warms the hearth where children wait.
It buys no years, no rest, no healing balm,
Only the echo of the miner's fate.
So gold will shine, as fine as sunlit sand,
But ask the miner what it cost his hand.
Descent Into the Dark
The cage drops down with a rattling groan,
Taking the miner past the last of the sun.
His lamp a small flame in the swallowing black,
He counts every rung on the ladder's dark track.
The walls sweat cold, the air hangs thick,
Each breath a labor, each heartbeat quick.
He follows the vein where the gold lies deep,
A glimmer that tempts him through shadow and sleep.
His pick rings out against the stone,
A lonely chime in the earth's dark bone.
And though the surface waits far above,
He trades his daylight for the gold he loves.
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