Douglas Felsch Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

As Many of you know, I am employed by a local Foundry as a maintenance tech.  I'm usually the first to enter the foundry at the start of my shift. This is just a sample of the feelings or vibe, if you will, of walking into that cavernous place and bringing it to life.  

The Gates of iron, Lake of Fire

“For he shatters the doors of bronze and cuts in two the bars of iron.” — Psalm 107:16

The foundry's quiet as a catacomb as I open up doors alone,
the furnace quiet in the back, molding cars still on their tracks.
Products of our previous toil, blood sweat, tears, and maybe oil.
Walking through a habit learned, do not touch lest one get burned.
Footsteps echo on the grates; I pass behind the tank of hate.
The lake of fire all contained, bound by steel and God's domain.
The water runs both day and night, keeping hell inside its shell,
for if the raging beast escapes, the iron bends. And the concrete breaks.
Stifling heat caress my lungs, within the path of grit,
it takes my breath and begs my soul—submit.
As I make my way into the yard, stumble on some steely shards,
skids and forklifts standing by; they look at me and ask me why?
The heavy doors announce a groan, the peace of man who walks alone.
The lights ignite the blackened pits, of auto cast and rust and grit.
And in the back, the beast awaits, the men of iron beyond the gates.

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Alison A Smith nee Howarth August 22, 2026 at 9:39 PM This is a powerful and atmospheric poem! You've perfectly captured the eerie, almost sacred quiet of the foundry before the beast awakens. The sensory details are phenomenal, especially the vivid imagery of the contained "lake of fire" and the stifling heat that begs the soul to submit. The personification of the forklifts and the heavy doors adds such a brilliant narrative touch to your solitary walk. It's a gripping, visceral look into your daily world—thank you for sharing this!