Keening Poems - Poems about Keening

...'Twas dawn and all the sky blazed red. The tell-tales snapped like waving flags. The keening wind was full of dread; all surplus sails were stowed in bags. Though somewhere on the restless mai......

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...From shadowed glens, where legends sleep, Three figures rise, secrets to keep. The Morrigan, a raven's wing, Drawn to the clash, the death-song sang. Of war, of fate, a chilling hand, To claim......

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...Prosperity proved no defense against the years or changing fates writ in the stars - nor masters of arms foresaw the weapons that unseated their lineages, leaving only ghostly bones where legions ral......

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...She has no friends Tells me this via text at 1:43 a.m. I barely know her A sliver of barely She says her father has recently passed Confides that she has no friends, no support group She had ......

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...I could not stop crying No idea why Sobbing and shaking Horrified at myself I am usually manic I am great at manic Manic is my go-to-place I LOVE being manic I had been going strong for t......

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...Tombs begin to bloom like raw, bloodless wounds. Tomes are written with truths of her dead moon’s tones. A keening lunacy keeps the dirges alive, while bones rise out of repose. A degloved hand on......

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...Feathers sparkled lustrous leaves crowded in a blisterful branch glazed pink lusted sprinkling waves smothered a idyllic luxury Blizzard armies of service strategically polished in s......

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...hawk catching, tearing, soaring, swooping, fishing howling, braying, keening stealthy, loyal wolf......

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...Weep with me I hold my breath in I won't let this free There's no stilling this ache That's inside of me The grief and the pain Rip away and break out To flow like a stream From my eyes an......

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...Dealing with the death of my friend As well as a long held dream doubling down on pain Auspiciously it seems The two for one it aint much fun however one serves to blunt the other the slighte......

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...Tick... Time has moved on but I’m standing still... No matter where I go, I can never run away. Gray, gray, gray, it’s all gray, everything, gray. Tock... They say you're at peace now, so, I'm......

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...In autumn's reign, vales of verdure turn gold, Fallen leaves tell the tale of life's revise, Brown branches lie bare; trees are brave and bold, Resilient dryads, keening to surmise. The frost-k......

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...A cut-throat razor is being stropped. A chin lifted, neck extended, a soaped throat exposed. There will be blood, not in the close shave, but on the keening blade of that singing stee......

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...Does the feeling left linger on the tip of your tongue? Looking for sense in these empty-full strokes To overstep bounds missed in the rush Begging to see behind the puppeteer’s eyes Too qu......

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...“Alas for those who die with their songs still inside them.” ---- Oliver Wendell Holmes Soul means nothing until we understand the language of crying. The voice of the soul is you brea......

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