Explore poemwriting

Seth is my friend, till the very end, His loyalty, I can always depend, With him around, my worries suspend, He's always there, to lend a hand. From childhood days, we've been comrades, Through thick and thin, we've had each other's backs, With every passing year, our bond just adds, More strength, more trust, and that's a fact. We share our laughs, our tears, our fears, Our secrets, our dreams, our hopes, our cheers, With Seth in my life, I have no fears, He makes my life, so much more dear. Seth's the friend, that I cherish most, The one I turn to, when I need the most, He understands, my unspoken thoughts, And guides me, when I feel lost. Seth is my friend, and that's never gonna change, We'll stick together, through all life's range, Good times or bad, rough or smooth terrain, With Seth by my side, nothing seems in vain.

When the roses faded, they grew anew, a breath of fresh earth, sprung up out of the ashes. We are the ashes. we breathe toxic waste, dragon's breath, no. human's breath will pollute, and corrupt mother earth's core! Our breath is that of nuclear radiation. our breath reeks of death, of our own dead, of animal dead, of broken earth. She weeps, the earth, wanted us to grow like buds, sprung up fresh with life, opportunity to await. But we like to stuff our face, with our dead, our ashes, the ashes of our planet, it only makes the hunger grow. Our hunger, equals destruction, including ours, our self-cannibalism, will not abate until everything is mutilated, until we peel the petals from a rose Blood-red petals, yank off stem, red fingers, our fingers, grubby, greedy, bloody and thick with filth, Let our animal dead, our dead, our dead mother earth who has given us breath! let it all crumble into shadow, let us blend into black, never go back I see

Mind, dark cannon ball drop, Pounds the floor into tremors. Not a bowling ball, Gravity cannot support the holes. Broken fingers in the empty, Empty expanse stretching like death. Deadly dead thing, body's cast, Air a meaningless thing, sifting, Through blades of grass As perception falls, slam doom. A dungeon for the minds corridors. Mindless spite, made of empty air, Yet slamming perception into pulp. A body of no meaning. As I fall, over and over, Anxiety ball, smacking faliure. Or, as the ground rises, From an upside-down angle, Meeting an explosion. Mind a deadly parasite. Spore on the void's crop, Killing an edible. Consuming consumption itself, A fungus of greed. More for the dead-drop to eat. Explosion in the empty A smash created from nothing

Bound in this fortress, Of cards, Overcome with thought currents, Capturing the killers of light. Book me a flight to freedom, As I feel wings, Beginning to form on my back, As I overlook the wall. I drop ideas, ill advised, and given From the dead drop, Of plummeting minds. "Give into" nothing, For either I live well, Or die better. How's that, wall? How's that, barrier? Broken with realizations, And the remedy of life, As a reminder And nobody is better than I, At giving myself ill-advised, Words. Whether it's love, hate, For I harbor, Diligence and devastation in one body. I hold myself like a baby And I, bright possibility, Will not let this world stop me.

A frosty wind bites at my face As I look for in desperation A way out of this place To my home and my salvation Stranded in a world of ice and snow I search for my way out For there must be a way I know Even as I feel a tinge of doubt I ask for the Lord's mercy I pray for my salvation That he will grant it surely In my time of desperation Until then I can only hope and pray That I will leave this place behind And will be given peace someday And eternal life I will then find

Numbed. I feel tired and frustrated. Yet, I feel comfort in the pain. Why must everyone tell me I'll get used to it when it's a bald-faced lie? Do they know me so little as to suggest I should feel? They are them, and I am me; in no way should they ever tell me how to feel. Numbness is like a security blanket: it keeps the demons away.

If the Devil is one thing he is not a fool A master manipulator to the end He always finds a way to sink his grimy fingers into the affairs of man They say the greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn’t exist In that, I would say they’re right In doing so he has made those of the Faith seem foolish and crazy for believing he does exist Why work through the nonbelievers when the Devil can simply work his magic through those who believe? By making Christians appear to be the fools, he has set forth the foundation of doubt among those who have not yet heard the good word By making Christians appear to be crazy, he has given us a bad name I would have to say what the Devil has done for centuries is quite clever Working through our insecurities to make the faith seem weak and evil He has made us seem like common gossips who talk behind the backs of our friends He has made us seem like hypocrites who so easily go back on our word He has made us seem like

The moon a watchful eye Crescent a cradle Light in the void In the storm an eye Standing together As we do Bottle up your words and thought Distill, emotion pure Unlock your mouth and throw the key We are candles, lit a ghastly glow Flicker, a wind, wax burning low Given up for light, all we know Light as a bubble Ripple as wind it blows Pop with a poke All together One apart The whole is greater than the sum

Forged of trash of the Past Blackened with words and Thought Blown apart and broke by Breeze From words I wrote but never Said Tracing my past, all Erased Fragment scattered all about, mixed Emotions My eraser was innocent, White My past and lessons, truth and Dark Making me a broken (thing) Being Past erased away and Gone But lessons held in my

The orange and red Contrasted the clear blue sky Leaves piling gently

At one time we thrived, But today we're deprived. Once we had unending prosperity; Now we live in extreme poverty. The times of plenty have come to a painful end; we have lost all of our goods, houses, and lands. There was a time when we had plenty to eat, But then war and destruction came from the east. Now we survive with just the clothes on our backs While everything else we once had we now lack. This is what we have all become; We'd be better off living in a slum. The days are bleak and the nights are full of hazards Our heads are endlessly being circled by waiting buzzards. In spite of our condition the sweet memories remain Of the time when we were rich and suffered little pain. Someday our lost wealth will be returned But for now we can only hope and yearn.

Flower flower Budding all alone You're on your own And there’s nowhere left to grow Flower flower Why do you bloom There is nothing here for you And there is nothing left to do. Flower flower Blooming all alone It’s too late now and there's nowhere left to grow Flower flower how did you bloom Because the dirt is dry But the blood soaks through Flower flower Growing in the ground white petals turn red As the dead are count Flower flower What do we do as we count up the dead the dead counts too