Gods of Thunder
The Iron Brother stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to be.
He hoped his hands were callused enough,
So his spirit may be set free.
" Step to the Iron Throne, Brother,
How shall I deal with you?"
" Have you bled Iron daily,
To this throne have you been true?"
I give homage to this Iron Throne,
And at times my talk was tough.
Sometimes I've been violent,
Cause this life is fuck'in rough.
Yea, I never scammed a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep.
I pounded Iron through overtime,
When the gains came to steep.
I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times, I shook with fear.
And sometimes Iron God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I do not belong in this place,
Among the people down here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Iron God,
It needn't be so grand.
I won't expect you to spot too much,
And if you don't, I'll understand.
There was silence around the Iron Bar Throne,
Where Iron Brothers had often trod.
As the Brother waited quietly,
For the judgement of his Iron God.
You do not belong down there,
With those who stare in wonder.
Your place is here, Brother,
Among the Gods of Thunder.
Step forward now, Brother,
You've lifted your burdens well.
Lift peacefully with your Iron Brothers,
You've done your time in HELL !!!
Ranger
Sacrifice
It was the night before the contest,
the Iron Brother lived all alone.
In a one bedroom house,
made of plaster and stone.
The Iron God came to this home,
for dedication that the Iron Brother did give.
And to look upon the squaller,
where the Iron Brother did live.
He had scars and stretch marks,
sprains and strains of all kinds.
And one pensive thought,
came through the Iron God's mind.
The Iron Brother's house was different,
inside was dark and dreary.
He found the home of an Iron Worshiper,
at once, he could see this clearly.
The Iron Brother lay sleeping,
breathing softly...so silent and alone.
Curled up on the floor,
in this one bedroom home.
The Iron God realized,
of all the Brothers he saw this night.
They were all committed to the Iron Throne,
and the Iron Bar, they were willing to fight.
Iron Brothers around the world,
knew the price they had to pay.
They bleed their Iron through overtime,
and rarely enjoy the light of day.
They bypassed good times, and parties,
each day, every month of the year.
The Iron God felt a kinship,
to the Iron Brother laying here.
The Iron God couldn't help but wonder,
how many Brothers lay alone.
And bodies ached throughout the night,
in these small, one bedroom homes.
Just the very thought,
brought a tear to the Iron Gods eye.
He then dropped to his knees,
and the Iron God began to cry.
The Iron Brother awakened,
and croaked out in a rough voice.
Iron God don't cry,
this life is my choice.
I lift to feel the freedom,
and I do not ask for more.
My life is yours Iron God,
and my body, to it's very core.
The Iron Brother breathed deeply,
and then lay quite, in his eternal sleep.
The Iron God couldn't control it,
and he softly, continued to weep.
The Iron God sat watch,
so silent...and so still.
Until he began to shiver,
at the coldness, of this nights chill.
He didn't want to leave,
on that dark and dreary night.
For the Guardian of the Iron Throne,
lay in death, before the Iron God's sight.
Ranger
THE CONVERSATION
The young Brother walked forward,
His face sad and drawn.
He held out a callused hand,
And felt these scars were wrong.
The Iron God stepped up,
And smacked his hands with a clap,
And through the chalky mist, he said.
"Young Brother, what is this crap?"
The young Brother drew away and sniffed,
Hid his eyes while wiping a tear.
"I've given you my best Iron God,
And bled Iron for a solid year!"
"It seems that I make no gains,
There was a time, I thought I could.
And the pain is getting harder,
It causes more harm now…than good!"
The Iron God stood there staring,
Then locked on the young one's eyes.
He searched his mind from "Back in the Day",
And re-called something clever and wise.
" Your ashamed of those hands,
But wear those calluses with pride.
For many an Iron Brother,
With callused hands lay down and died."
"It's not how many sets,
Nor the exercise…now is it?
It's when you feel the pain,
And it makes you want to quit."
The young Brother hung his head,
And flexed those callused hands.
"But Iron God", he said so softly,
"You just don't understand."
"Down there we are out numbered,And the common one's are the worst.
They look and stare…they use bad form,
And they say the Iron Brothers are cursed."
"They never hit the squat rack,
And sometimes I have fallen prey.
Then they leave, and I'm in the zone,
But they're back, the very next day."
The Iron God squared his jaw,
Then tapped a thick, scarred finger.
And on the young Brother's face,
His eyes did sadly linger.
"This Iron war is not won,
By those who just say,"Screw it",
It is won by the Iron Brother's,
Who decide they can do it!"
"But what about the common one's,
Who are misled in their lives.
They've never felt the pain I know,
I can see it in their eyes?"
"You cannot help them young Brother,
Nor dictate their sad chosen path.
You cannot stop their ignorance,
Nor heal their weekend wrath's."
"Bleed Iron at the Iron Bar Throne,
And the pain will someday cease.
Then return to your one room house,
If only for an hour…know your peace!"
"But Iron God", the young Brother started,
His heart heavy with lead.
"I know the common one's down there,
They wish that I were dead!"
"I feel their stares burning,
They laugh and fling their mud.
Yet, who is there to thank me?
When I sweat my Iron Blood?"
The Iron God pursed his lips,
His answer lay unknown.
For he to had felt the pain,
A pain that hurts to the bone.
"There are no easy answers,
For the ache that you feel.
But appreciation, and their praise,
I'm afraid ain't a part of the deal."
"The respect will come with gratitude,
And admiration from the Iron Brother's too!
But, it will not come from the common one's,
Who cannot do what we can do!"
The young Brother felt the tears,
And looked down at his callused hands.
He knew he could not quit,
As he had already planned.
For now, he saw those callused hands,
Not just as something he does.
They are not just a symbol,
IT MADE HIM WHAT HE WAS!
AN IRON BROTHER
RANGER
THE CREATION
The Iron God did look upon the world,
With the common one's weak of mind.
He spake unto his Iron Disciples,
Saying, " I'll make a Brother of a different kind!"
For three days the Iron God labored,The Disciples begged, " Finish it tomorrow!"
The Iron God did not reply,
For the world was in such sad sorrow.
The seventh day Iron God stood proud,
Iron Disciples did gather round.
They stood in awe of the Brother before them,
Yet, he did not utter a sound.
" Does he speak?" The Disciples asked.
Curiosity wrinkled upon their brow.
" He does not speak any words of mouth,
Though his gains doth speak out loud!"
" Behind those massive pec's,
Is what separates him from you.
Deep beneath the blood and gristle,
Is a Heart of Iron…Beating true!"
" Those Bicep peaks, and wide thick Tri's,
I made from a likeness of me.
Grab the tape, my Iron Disciples,
For they measure a cold, hard 23!"
"Admire the Squat thickened legs,
Most will turn away in distaste.
But, this body with no foundation,
Is just a body…waiting to waste!"
" Those forearms, bulging and tapered,
With veins rising to greet the skin.
Anything less than this perfection,
And I would start all over again!"
" And gaze in wild wonder, upon those lat's,
Spread out, so thick, and wide.
That " V " shape there before you,
Down there he won't be able to hide!"
" This is the first of many,
Who will fight for their place down there.
Anything aside the Iron Bar Throne,
Will cross his mind without a care!"
" This Iron Brother shall walk unequal,
All different…yet each one the same.
They will pass from the shadows silently,
Just nobody's…with no names!"
" They'll preach our Gospel, from the Throne,
Few will listen unto his words.
Blood of the palms, and the screams of pain,
Upon deaf ears…shall go unheard!"
An Iron Disciple moved forward,
Then stepped back, hiding his fear.
For upon that chiseled cheek,
Sat a single…golden tear.
" He hath sprung a leak!" Muttered one.
As they all continued to stare.
The Iron God shook his massive head,
And whispered, " I did not put that there."
" Step forward and gaze upon this face,
And remember this golden tear.
For it is the ultimate reminder,
It's "WE" Down there they fear!"
" That tear is a final testament,
To the sleepless nights, filled with pain.
And the Grunts through the chalk filled mists,
That will hide his hard fought gains!"
" That tear is our conviction,
To shoulder our burdens well.
Earning the right to the Iron God World,
He will first, lift his days through Hell!"
RANGER
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I agree, ease your way back into it if you're having trouble w/not eating clean. If you're eating 4 or 5 shitty meals a day cut it back to 1 or 2 but definately keep the protien as high as possible. It's not too hard if you have a goal in mind, when we're just going through the motions because we know we should, there's not much motivation. Just keep at it and remember these words from J.P. Fux, "Every time you give in to a dirty meal, you've taken another step onto the slippery slope downwards."
i admit i slip but i just bust my ass harder, sometimes it ok to cheat
