Long Agonized Poems
Long Agonized Poems. Below are the most popular long Agonized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Agonized poems by poem length and keyword.
Frenzied anguish precipitated Matt chew
Scott Harris, with
unrelenting, unescapable,
and unbearable despair, grew
wing by leaps and bounds,
which fraught gloom didst hew
mindset equalled nought
(Gordian knot) i.e.
zero ambition tubby
alive, and concomitantly
brought if only you knew,
wrought unbearable toxic brew
to pinpoint the exact clue
how being penniless I do
attest, this compounded zilch money
agonized by quite
a stack - more'n a few
monthly bills past due,
thus aye rue
min hated, the least loo
pee, and most painless
final solution of this Jew
wish atheist, (these
utterances absolutely true),
no "FAKE king," trump
petting, yawping foam
minted psychosomatic ague,
whereat mine mental state hue
mon gust lee off kilter,
with hum moo
zing thoughts of
palm lee strangling myself,
(or hiring sum
handsome fist responder to slew),
me the way - no
cho king) till I go
totally tubularly blue
in the face, em
barking on undo
wobble decision, said permanent
exodus from life,
this scribe dost view
as last saving grace,
this self woo
man eye zing,
(nada so amazing),
ye might poo poo
such drastic desperation,
non heroic measures stew
pa head and er ration
hubble grim foray
exacerbated predisposition
to panic/ anxiety attacks,
the alluring temptation
hi with Andy Lee drew
to bid bid adieu
to hard scrabble existence,
and in summer re: goo
winter becoming cremated powder,
(with urn nest to dog -
un woof hoot
table Sirius ness), wharf few
if any tsuris -
(Yiddish for aggravation),
NO ash lee zero distress,
would upend resting
in a bajillion pieces.
The rotting sills of
Blackwood Manor groaned
under the weight of an
ancient, festering malevolence.
For centuries, the desolate mansion
stood as a monuments to abyssal
dread, its cyclopean architecture
casting a sepulchre shadow over
the twisting, weed- choked grounds.
Inside, a claustrophobic stagnation
hung heavily in the air, thick with the
noxious reek of mildew and putrefaction.
Elena stepped through the
threshold, her breath hitching
as the warped creaky floorboards
emitted a discordant, agonized shriek
beneath her boots.
Phantasmal whispers coalesced
in the stygian darkness of the corridors,
echoing with a harrowing, labyrinthine
malice that clawed at her sanity. The
walls seemed to pulsate rhythmically,
as if some gargantuan, subterranean
entity breathed beneath the decaying
plaster.
Suddenly, a cacophony of
disembodied, guttural shrieks
erupted from the upper balustrade.
Apparitions materialized from the
shadows, their nebulous, tattered
forms twisting into grotesque
countenances of pure, unadulterated
torment.
Eldritch frost erupted across
the windowpanes, freezing her
veins into absolute stasis. Paralyzed
by an overwhelming, primordial terror,
Elena watched in helpless horror as the
macabre architecture of the vestibule
began to contort.
The shadows detached themselves
from the floor, rising like shadowy
tendrils to drag her down into abyssal, eternal dark.
Midst covenant sealed by fidelity
assured along HIS immutable Word,
I, being carnal, succumbed to luring temptation
as a faith-traitor, flirting with the world
oblivious of my vow to love GOD with all of my heart...
...Guilty was I of betraying my Saviour
grieving Him and reproaching His name---
then when I confessed* my sins and errors
He, verily faithful, pardoned me completely
along His compassion that drew me more intimately to Him.
Meanwhile, my soul languished, victimized in a scammed venture
cognizant that the culprits were whom
I considered my trusted friends, serving as vessels of blessings---
they fooled me, rendering my contract with them as futile
hence, nullifying my investments --- all by their deceit…
...Struggling hard to accept their “sorry”
I agonized bearing the load of my justice-plight
Thus, I prayed to be a true “forgiveness-giver”
Grateful to God that I received His wondrous grace...
Indeed, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.”**
*1John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he (God) is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
**Alexander Pope, in the poem "An Essay on Criticism", Part II, 1711.
February 7, 2020
2nd place, "Famous poetic lines 2" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 2/9/2020.
You suffered silently for us,
carried the burden of the cross,
defied the undying death to resurrect
to save us from sin, give fortitude to the bleak minds.
O, Lord, Your grace we celebrate in Easter.
The resurrection brought You back to us
to reside in the revered sanctum of immortality,
marking the joyous and devoted end
to the Lenten season of penitence.
O, Lord, Your bliss we celebrate in Easter.
You hold us in Your holy arms,
when the time comes for us to depart.
In mortal darkness show us the heavenly beacon
in our journey to the eternity.
O, Lord, Your light we celebrate in Easter.
In the unkind harsh world,
You instill the feeling of fondness in our hearts,
going out to embrace the desolate
with the solacing touch of empathy.
O, Lord, Your love we celebrate in Easter.
You guide us with the divine glow,
across the turbulent sea to the placid shore.
The abode of tranquility in our souls
You make for us to pacify our restless distress.
O, Lord, Your serenity we celebrate in Easter.
From our tormented hearts
flow out the humble words of dedication.
We bear with hope the burden of agonized life
with the strength we get as Your blessing.
O, Lord, Your benevolence we celebrate in Easter.
_______________
March 16, 2023
Contest : Easter
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
O, Lord of love, You suffered silently for us,
carried the cross to save us from sin,
You give fortitude to our desolate minds.
O, Lord of joy, resurrection brought You to us
to reside in the revered sanctum of immortality,
marked the joyful end to Lenten season of penitence.
O, Lord of grace, You hold us in Your holy arms,
and when the time comes for us to finally depart,
show us the heavenly light to travel to the eternity.
O, Lord of faith, You guide us with the divine glow
across the tempestuous sea to the serene shore
to be in the abode of peace You make for us.
O, Lord of hope, from the tormented heart
flow out these humble words, for I bear the burden
of agonized life with the strength I get as Your blessing.
________________
April 9, 2022
Contest : Easter
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
Imagine your imagination soar in flight
Turning blue sipping the open sky bright
Turning green soaking the verdant forest
Turning crimson sucking clouds at sunset.
Imagination is painting transient
On the canvas of fantasy latent.
Imagine your imagination fly in the wind
Chasing designed butterflies like a child
Chasing the shifting mirage in the desert
Chasing the rainbow colors in life inert.
Imagination is potent inspiration
Motivates the minds of creation.
Imagine your imagination morph in passion
Becoming an imposer of ardent obsession
Becoming fleeting daydream of fragile entity
Becoming alien to the essence of reality.
Imagination is freedom of mind
The agonized life needs to find.
December 26, 2017.
In the passion sea of my yearning the bliss waves
swelled like swirling lattice of your sapphire smile.
With the mesmeric moonbeam motif of your charm,
its sparkle splashed on our entwined essence.
In your embrace my subtle senses delicately turned
into rapture rhythm of my heart, enchanted within,
set the lingering longing so long latent
to sail in the sensual stream of my ardent desire.
In the scintillating flow of the zooming zephyr,
as you drifted away unconcerned past me,
blowing a devastating storm of broken promises,
my fervor lay fragmented in the wreckage of ecstasy.
Unmet expectations damaged the dormant psyche,
futile promises smothered the rays of fading hope,
lacerating betrayal tore the trellis of my mangled mind.
My life was wrecked by your atrocious demeanor.
With the body and mind ravaged by the strike of severance
my life was no longer an epitome of charming concept,
for the piteous ruins of the shattered heart piled up
in silent pain at the fathomless depth of abysmal despair.
A weary traveler wandering in wasteland, I was adrift
on a futile journey to nowhere destined to end forlorn,
along the contours of convoluted life in winter night,
when all the promises my mind nurtured were broken.
Free from the captivity of depraved love,
my agonized heart pined to rejuvenate,
hoping to find the secret of solace for the soul,
waiting for the time to re-invent the self-worth.
I’d rise from the ruins of the shattered heart,
soar on ethereal air of yearning in your void firmament.
Before the pale dust of twilight effaces my fading time,
I’d fly for the final rest to the nest of broken promises.
Lonely Awaits
This gathering furl of past
Rising from love’s once moist heart
Now but dry sorrow
Lingering stubbornly
Where once its canvas
Of vibrant color
Rainbowed the future
Today only flaking memories small
Drift downward
Joining queues of bygone erosion
Where emotions of stalwart bedrock
Once held firm
Like aging scree
Time continues biting thin
Moving yesterday’s drifts into exile
Chased by fossiled feelings
Once of molten passion
Now but withering dunes
Aimlessly adrift
This expanse of solitary
Whom death made giant of wind
And small as hourglass sand
Whose Sabbath wore Mary Jane shoes
Waxed each Saturday
Polished to reflective mirrors
Paying homage
To steepled Sunday service
Was made to sit upright
Conscious of ruler at the ready
Reciting the ancient book
Whose guilt-motive stories
Promised good girl suppers
To close out Lonely’s black Sunday
Agonized memories past
Seem ever present
Pain’s last remaining stand
Pleads why ghost towns await
Why deserts only preserve such places
From drifting grit of expired time
Like the sand
Lonely awaits another tomorrow
Fractured
Scattered
Clinging to its impoverished identity
Here I am
Lonely mutters each night
Its head buried in nocturnal safety
Unable to forget its childhood fear
Perhaps never to be vanquished
To always be at the mercy
Of wind and tide
Its dreamt upon cheerful voice
Never being heard
Here I am
Here I am
Stardust blankets lacrimosa skies,
a requiem of times gone by.
The taste of late summer nights still lingers on bittersweet lips,
yet somehow, now, it’s become stale—like blue cheese and old pickles.
A crisp breeze cascades from the north,
ushering in the dawn of autumn.
Vivid memories begin to fade from lucidity.
Crystal droplets fall from despondent eyes,
puddling around forsaken feet.
Swimming in grief, struggling to breathe,
I begin drowning in agonized anguish.
Reaching out for you, my fingers crumble within my grasp,
for ghosts can’t pull you from the plunge.
As emotions overwhelm with every heartbeat,
I sink further into this beckoning night,
my soul crashing under increasing pressure.
Flickering recollections fade in and out of view—
hypoxic, flesh turning blue.
Muscles tighten, flinch.
Clenching my chest, cardiac arrest imminent,
for your untimely demise was my fatality.
The moist meadow of my heart
dries in desolation like a desert,
as the clouds of parched passion
make my overcast mind a morose sky.
The halcyon horizon I call mine waits
for the southern wind to blow
with the surreal spectrum,
bring from the fervent sparkling sky
your sequined charisma below
to swathe my shades of blues.
In the surge of sequestered sandstorm
my derelict desire drifts away
from the anchorless dunes of the desert
where the evaporated oasis doesn’t remember
it existed once as an epitome of sanguinity.
Away from the wilderness
if you turn into an emerald tree
in the far away fawn forest,
the baroque boughs would reach out
to the seraphic sky of yearning.
For a while in their soothing shade
I would like to repose,
hear the song the leaves would sing
with the dainty drops of dancing rain.
In the titular template of loneliness,
the spaced-out ethereal melody,
the dreamy transient tranquility
of the entranced beginning,
turns into lilting lyric
of the million steps I walk to reach you,
setting free the agonized heart
that quivers like the wasteland willow.
The configuration of the unyielding essence
repudiates the catharsis reprisal.
At the edge of your receding shadow
I sense in the fossilized time
the sound of silence.