Poems About Love And War (Alexandrine Poetry)

0 0
Read Time:2 Minute, 1 Second

Your silence dances (Alexandrine Poetry)

Your love for me a little more than nothing means,

When love as sense of self may be, than mine, less strong,

When thrill of love may keep the pain on withered greens

And night of dreams is like a teared and jerking song.

Your silence dances meaning’s words on face’s frown,

My eye of winter follows stream of light on sky,

Erratic flow of painful words by stripping down

Their sense of meaning sounding like a sad ”good bye”. 

With red unfolded kisses thrilling white delight,

The moon replaces missing sun with all around.

It makes me dance my will in dreams’ abstract on height.

It makes me feel the love again and heals my wound.

The War

An invisible black hiatus of sadness,

An eerie silence as an immense void,

No beacon of hope in this sad badness,

Hate leaving many spaces destroyed,

Bloody war taking up too much space,

Victims stumbling on a rocky path of life,

Curving fates shyly lifting with sad grace,

Quantum love trying to dissipate the strife,

Cold death keeping the ideology of war,

Winners covering themselves with glory,

Dramatic consequences trying to ignore,

Their thinking becoming increasingly gory.

In A Love Dawn

Thou came to me at that dawn

Having such beautiful blue eyes.

The love I felt was just a mirage.

Thou looked like a blonde angel,

But thy sadness was very human.

I heard that sadness and the loss.

Thy name was the name of a king.

The light of a candle began to shine

Inside the room of our woeful souls.

There, His loving eyes met our tears.

The pulsation coming from that star

And the beat of our hearts became

One in the intoning voices of love.

Evil Earths (Horror Poetry)

Screaming voices shattering the inner mirror of love

Clattering to nothingness, searching freedom in space,

Bloody songs tightly warping their blue heaven above

In the thin and chill air disappearing without a trace,

O’er sad whispers, wind whipping through the wounds

For the symphony of demons’ dreams as a veil disguise,

Bloody voices needing to build up stomping grounds,

Buried danger sprouting out to keep growing in size,

The salty tears of liquid souls forming watery waves,

Beauties in red waiting to face on their fear of death,

Still screaming while drowning in the cold watery graves,

Tearing the silence with their groan and bleeding breath.

Happy
Happy
0 %
Sad
Sad
0 %
Excited
Excited
0 %
Sleepy
Sleepy
0 %
Angry
Angry
0 %
Surprise
Surprise
0 %

Average Rating

5 Star
0%
4 Star
0%
3 Star
0%
2 Star
0%
1 Star
0%

Leave a Reply

Next Post

Science, Metaphysics, Philosophy, Theology, History, and the Holy Shroud

I. EVIDENCE AGAINST AUTHENTICITY OF THE SHROUD OF TURIN Robert Drews (In Search of the Shroud of Turin: New Light on Its History and Origins, 1984) gives a lot of evidence that Gnostics created the Shroud of Turin in the 1st or 2nd century using a crucified victim or volunteer […]
Science, Metaphysics, Philosophy, Theology, History, and the Holy Shroud

You May Like