Long Bloodiest Poems
Long Bloodiest Poems. Below are the most popular long Bloodiest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bloodiest poems by poem length and keyword.
In the cold Russian Winters
To deter the enemy so
These red starred fighters
Street fighting they would know
The bloodiest in modern history
Thousands fell to earth
Fighting for their freedom
On the country of their birth
Hand to hand engagements
A bayonet to the girth
Another fallen soldier
Fighting for their worth
Operation Barbarossa
Is the theatre to discuss
In the boundaries of success
To free the likes of us
The power of it's industry
German's desired to greed
Avenue to the Caucasus
Would fuel their war torn seed
In the midst of battle
So many mechanical germs
The Stuka, dive bomber German
The T-34 in volume swarmed
But the winner in this battle
Was the want to save their city
Mother nature intervened
And the Germans were shown no pity
For all their strategy and might
The winter took it's toll
With fighting on two fronts
Their armies no longer strolled
Supplies were short in demand
What were, struggled through
For mother nature we thank
She was on the side of the true
When history looks back
In view to the red star brigades
The Germans held ninety percent
But the street fighters would never fade
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
11/26/12
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Deep in Slender Man's void of existence,
Long fingers open an old-fashioned, gothic box
She watches excitedly for his reaction
A mini puppet show plays within,
Featuring little children—
Little, creepy dead children
Strange, carnival-type music plays off tune
As the pale children dance in a circle with glee
In the midst of the dancing there stands a tall figure without a face
And a very happy woman in his arms
The children open their hearts and sing:
"Oh happy days have cometh,
For Mr and Mrs. Slender,
Though dead we are we runneth,
With mirth ever rendered!
We sing this song on your behalf,
With dancing, joy, and many a laugh..."
And the smallest, creepiest, bloodiest girl
Comes up with a dazzling dress twirl:
"There shall be a pause of slaughter and beheading,
For Mr. and Mrs. Slender's wedding!"
And with charm the children dance and sing some more
As the slender man in the box does dance with the girl
But soon the little children disappear from view
Back into the box, in their respectful coffins
And the two figures in the box stand alone
As the girl hands him a wedding gift with a wink
Long fingers close the old-fashioned, gothic box
Looking happily at his wife in awe
To his delight she winks with many a blush
A man wakes up with demons,
In his mind, he is conflicted with religion.
The Holy Bible and the Amish,
Have different views on,
Everlasting life in heaven.
He was paranoid.
He had mental illness,
He called the Bishop the Devil,
For telling lies about heaven.
All the Amish knew of his sickness,
Yet did nothing to help.
Finally taking him to the hospital,
Only to learn he was schizophrenic,
Yet was he??
No, it was later realized he had,
Chemical poisoning in his brain,
Caused by the cleaning engine fluid.
He was released with medication.
The next morning he killed his wife.
Removing her brain and disemboweled,
Her organs explaining that she didn't,
Understand that the Holy Bible was truth,
And the Amish was the curse.
This is a true story. The detective said,
It was the bloodiest and worse crime scene,
He ever witnessed. A man outside was,
Teaching him that praying will guarantee,
Him everlasting life.
The Amish only learn if they have,
Everlasting life when they die.
The Amish man found it confusing
And a curse.
Age's bloodiest showdown looms,
Or such it seems by its lurid form;
Spirit's sharpest arrows must fly
Swifter than is their agile-witted norm.
Now Armageddon's most savage sword
Cruelest aim of softest landings takes,
Though target's dexterous fightback
Its most foolproof arsenals stakes.
Thus unfolds time's deadliest flare
Under high heaven's beneficences;
Watching on with an eye dimly fair,
Umpiring blows with arcane mien.
And though its yet baffling to tell
What dismal odds in virtue's favor stand,
Eons of war-waging jurisprudence repel
Smiling wins for Gaol's tempestuous fates.
what’s the bloodiest, the goriest
it’s what they’re really hoping for
but bread and butter routine falls
uninjured, aging vulnerables
just needing putting back to bed
or in their chair, their blanket days
with smiles as they’re left alone
strong but crying inwardly
the cold and lonely prison home
we drive away hoping that
someone will check up on them
and after shift when we’re in bed
thinking are they still there sat
where we left them hours past
have they eaten, have they ‘been’
that’s the toughness no-one sees
or wants to hear or gives a damn
or interested when they ask
what’s the worst call that you had
I’m sitting alone in a nightmare again,
A dream that’s not of my choice.
Sitting with iced eyes drilling my skin,
Alone, here, without any voice.
And no one can hear my screams in the night,
Nope, no one can hear what I roar,
And no one can see the wounds on my skin,
I’m captive in the bloodiest war.
Often I’m trapped, unable to move,
Unable to break out of this room,
While other times I’m chased, chased in a hunt,
A hunt to my imminent doom.
I’m here, alone, to battle my sleep,
Imprisoned on this warpath.
My weapons are belief when meditating myself,
And, before sleep, running a hot bath.
4.
Now things started to become clear,
Both Alahsar and Salahmar in the same space,
One would find Victory, the other, leave this place,
light and dark in the eternal battle.
Alahsar, of God's light,
Salahmar, of dark's evil joys,
which of them would wane away?
Devil's fear, or Heaven's glory.
For Alahsar, the city of light,
mortals, their lives laying down,
numbers falling as Algahrs push forward,
is this the end of light, hearts filled with hate.
From the golden gates a mighty moving,
women, they come forth with speed,
hate filled eyes and trembling cries,
yelling out their cry of war.
Still the foe were many more,
the Algahrs always to the front,
mightily they begin their push,
the might of dark within each beast.
Too hold the foe would take great strength,
strength was fading, ebbing away,
the Algahrs now did mighty push,
death and destruction on Badicha lay.
Still mortals stood, though blood did flow,
man and woman, power decreasing,
children watch from mighty walls,
as parents and friends meet their end.
Dark Man fighting, vengeance dear,
Warrior Queen spreading fear,
the bloodiest scene before the gates,
blood for blood,by sorrow's river.
Utamol, with almost life of own,
cutting, slicing, stabbing home,
Dark Man with his awesome grace,
Sends evil from this land of light.
Warrior Queen with power and speed,
destroying all this evil seed,
cries of pain are everywhere,
so many lost, their dead eyes stare.
On the plain great dust clouds rising,
screams of mortals and beasts fill the air,
lightning flashing, thunder crashing,
onward the struggle of life goes on.
Within the heart of living terror,
weapons crashing, teeth a-gnashing,
will miracle come to Badicha?
Shall mortals halt their slow retreat?
Alahsar's own are falling back,
dead and dying are underfoot,
now mortals they must hold the foe,
forward warriors, toe to toe.
No battle ranks or strategy to follow,
Hold position and strike down the foe,
Dark Man now in heat of battle,
Arlaghs feel the hate of Utamol.
In this time before time,
sorrow's song, the last song to be sung?
Strike with rage, power and might,
Become battle Gods, the power of light.
Cry goes up, "Walk in the light,"
the arms are weary, still fight for life,
still the battle crashes on,
what end shall be, before the dawn.
To Be Concluded..........
Skins are scraping all over his flesh smoothly.
Flows of blood are running through his body.
His arms are flipped like a scrambled paper,
Crowd is rushing like a powdered pepper.
His face touches in a gray dusty ground,
Everyone screams and makes a saddest sound.
Tears are running on my mom’s face,
Death is mysterious as it goes someone’s pace.
I remember how he really looks like,
Pieces of brains are thrown away from his motorbike.
His death is the worst thing that I’ve ever known.
I can’t stand why his bloody death is so unknown.
I almost faint in his bloodiest situation,
It frightens and heightens my weakest tension.
Bloodstains are obvious on his shirt,
His death is noxious and incredibly dirt.
chaos, am i ... all that is not understood
poison, am i ... once on your lips, the taste of ruin
callow, am i ... a child's heart that beats erotic
obsessed, am i ... as the black coal scarecrow's eye
clement, am i ... friendship and love, embers of my soul
byzantine, am i ... tangle of wispy intentions, dreamed
singularity, am i ... Universe and atom - lepton and void
horror, am i ... warm darkness that whorls, obsidian fire
ocean, am i ... cold abyss - ebbing, flowing - pulled by the moon
heaven, am i ... of the dearest light ... the bloodiest weep
life, am i ... the lost ache for love ... the purpose, pure
death, am i ... but a tender ripple in the surface of eternity
timeless, am i ... naught but now, naught but never ...
naught but ... i.
Written and submitted on May 12, 2020
For the "I Am: A List Bio Challenge" Poetry Contest
Andrea Dietrich, Sponsor.
I have read the Code Noir.
I have read the papal bull of Nicholas V.
I have read the charter of imperialism.
I have read the Indigenous Code
I have read the Torah, the Bible, and the Quran.
I have read the racist recollections of ***** swimming bans and France’s human zoos.
I have read the dismal pages of French history.
I have studied the ideological constructs of negrophobic, supremacist, and racialist philosophers.
I have meditated on the sacrifice of the Black Force in the trenches of world wars.
I have meditated on the centuries of torment and dehumanization endured by my ancestors.
I have pondered deeply the savagery of slavery,
the barbarity of colonization, and the capitalist tyranny imposed by the demons of Western democracy.
I have meticulously leafed through and examined every blackened page of the slaver, colonialist, imperialist, and racist history of the West’s slave-trading nations.
I have journeyed across the Earth to affirm that Black skin remains the most despised of humanity.
Imperialist Western powers bear responsibility for every human catastrophe that falls upon Africa.
They sow chaos so the bloodiest dictatorships may thrive.
They sow Satanism so every shade of decadence, disguised as progress, bursts from the bowels of hell.
They have always fed on the wild plunder of Africa’s riches.
They have always treated Africa as a reservoir of raw materials and a free bank of human organs.
They divide, steal, rape, plunder, burn, massacre, genocide, demonize, assassinate,
Whomever they want, whenever they want, wherever they want, in Africa.