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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Souls Without Names

 

The fires of Hell burn bright,

In the middle of the night,

Waiting for an angel to fall,

No hope of salvation at all.

 

A poor lost soul,

Is swallowed up whole,

Consumed in the flames,

They are souls without names.

 

The fires are ablaze,

In this fiendish maze,

Consumed by shame,

There is no one to blame.

 

The fires are aglow,

As you sink so low,

The Devil has cast his spell,

You face eternity in Hell.

Posted

Nice. To me the second stanza sounds almost perfect as I read it. Or maybe even perfect, it's just they always speak of nothing being perfect (or is it no one?). ;)

Posted

Excellent poem. Nice rythym and rhymes. Seems to me like this isn't such a common topic; liked the first stanza. The only thing I have to point out is the second stanza doesn't quite seem to flow with the rest of the poem, rythym-wise. But these are only my thoughts, and this is a splendid first poem.

Posted

The Sorcerer cast his spell,

Raises demons from hell,

Trouble is brewing,

It will make shocking viewing.

 

The sky will turn black,

There is no going back,

Cities thrown into turmoil,

Nothing left to spoil.

 

Nothing but ruins and bricks,

That’s what comes of devilish tricks,

Beware when calling on the Dark Lord,

Be sure you agree a price you can afford.

 

There is no point in taking a leading role,

If you let him feast on your soul,

A member of the living dead,

Should have asked the Good Lord instead.

 

Pray for salvation,

Or else face damnation.

Posted

The Tree of Despair hangs over me

 

Its enveloping branches choke the life out of me

 

It feeds on death to renew itself

 

Its only hope is to lead the innocent into damnation

 

The death of innocent souls keeps it alive

 

So many souls have passed this way

 

And met their doom

 

Led astray by the grim surroundings

 

They found many ways to kill themselves

 

Hundreds of bodies hang from the branches

 

And the leaves are blood red

 

They fall to the ground

 

And turn black

 

Adding to the sense of despondency

 

All those filled with shame

 

Head this way

 

Your end awaits you

 

Welcome to the Wood of Death

 

And the Tree of Despair

 

In this land of dead souls

 

The Dark Lord surveys all

 

His blood red eyes dismiss all hope

 

And twinkle wickedly at the dreadful scene

 

Only evil can thrive in his Dark Kingdom

 

Each night he counts the victims

 

Who hang from the Tree of Despair

 

I give you fair warning

 

Do not trespass there

Posted

Written 3 years ago, at the ripe old age of 15 :P

 

Sometimes, you see nothing

With your eyes wide open,

And when you see

You perceive nothing.

 

Sometimes, you run your fingers on things

But the sense of touch is lost,

Even when you touch

You feel nothing.

 

Sometimes you breathe in air

Full of smells,

But you smell nothing.

Even when you smell,

Do you recognize what it is?

No, everything smells the same.

 

Sometimes, with all the noise around you,

You only hear

the sound of the silence.

A silence, which means nothing to you.

 

Sometimes, you walk along a road.

An endless road, leading to nowhere.

Still you try to reach the end,

As if there is one.

 

Sometimes, you go to sleep

You dream of things that never happened

never will.

Your pain wakes you up.

Only to remind you it was a dream.

 

Sometimes, you look into the future

Which only brings your past.

A past so painful,

All black and white.

 

Sometimes, you take a shower in the moonlight

to wash away your pain.

Light sweeps your heart

only to refresh your agony again.

 

Sometimes, you find yourself

amid four walls.

Walls so high that you can't even see the sky,

May be there is none for you.

 

Sometimes, the clock slows down,

The time doesn't pass.

Each second seems an hour,

Counting down infinite time.

 

Sometimes, you hope for better

hope for change.

And when it changes,

It only worsens the worst.

 

Sometimes, you try to show

what's inside you.

The pain the agony, the lust for love.

But to whom?

You live in a world

where you are the only one.

 

Sometimes, you cry aloud,

You weep with the silence of death.

You don't know why

you are the one to feel

the only one to suffer such grief.

 

Sometimes, you like someone

She dislikes you as much as you like her.

Then, you love her,

Hatred is what you get in return.

As much hatred as your love.

 

Sometimes, you wish to draw the end

to a life without any enemy nor any friend.

You want to give up all.

What stops you all the time?

What keeps you alive?

Hope.

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