Long Defend Poems

Long Defend Poems. Below are the most popular long Defend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Defend poems by poem length and keyword.


The Flight of An Arrow

Dawn broke
The eastern pink sky
Drew across the stars
As they faded and lost to the night

 

I called the eagle
To guide me
Piercing whistle
That I learnt as a boy
Running wild and free

 

I walked in the company of men
High above, eagles flew
The wraiths are coming from the otherworld too
Carrying the angst and pain
That has no place and name
Here at Heartstone

 

The screeching and wailing
Increased hideously
The tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

I stood, with the company of men
My bow ready
Arrows drawn
Arm, steady

 

I have trained to defend
Truth and love
Nobility
Chivalry

 

The wraiths gathered
The screeching and wailings
Piercing through
To our souls
We are ready
To fight to the end
To defend
All that is true

 

The flight of an arrow
Unleashed
Steadied by the eagles’ feather
Of brown and gold
It flew
Straight and true
In to the non existent heart
Of a wraith bitter and cold
It was this I slew

 

A bundle of rags fell
For it is not the metal tip
That killed
It was the feather of a Heartstone Eagle
Truth be told
That slew
A wraith, bitter and cold

 

The wraiths flew
From behind the mountain
The   screeching and wailing
Tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

They came in their hundreds
To fall
For, truth and love
From a feather
Of a mighty eagle above
Slew the hearts
Bitter and cold
Brown and gold glow
Flashing by
The flight of an arrow
The archers
Standing tall

 

The gleam of brown and gold
That flew
Deep in to the cold bitter hearts
Of stories now told
Of men of the longbow

 

 

I reached
I pulled 
Many arrows to fly
Of a star
Of a longbow
Aquila am I

 

The longbow of dark wood
Felt my strength
As I clasped its’ bronze inlaid feathers
And reached
And pulled
Arrows of brown and gold
Deep into wraiths
Its’ purpose understood

 
The sky turned black
With eagles that twisted and turned
Of wraiths, slain
Felled by the longbow
Down they fell
In to their own stinking hell
The brown and gold aglow

 

Darkness falling
The fires lit so bright
In a company of men
That celebrated under starlight

 

Remember….
This day well
When the archers
Masters of the longbow
Sent the wraiths back
To their stinking hell
Of Aquila
Who slew
More than most
The flight of an arrow
That holds true
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Romantic Love Means Nothing

My soul hates this type of love. It's literally my natural enemy. However, I am happy, truly, because I stay true to myself. At the same time, my anger is an acidic stream of fire more powerful than a billion PSI and roars at speeds greater than sound. I choose selfishness as my path in life. Love is never stronger than selfishness nor is selfishness stronger than love. Emotions don't have power alone, we give them power. Like swords, the wiser and more skillful one is at wielding them, the more rewards there are to reap. Selfishness is stronger than love in any and every way if a hint of fairness and integrity are added to it. Humans are not able to love one another, it's delusion at best. I always ask romantic couples why do they love their partner, they almost never know why. I personally believe that if love was real in humans, it should be a conscious decision, not an instinct because lust is instinct. Lust is selfishness, while love is selflessness. So many people delude themselves into thinking that they're in love with someone, when in reality, they're attracted to something that person has, physical or non-physical material. Logic is also more powerful than romantic love, which shatters the maze that countless get lost in. Though life is no straight path, logic and selfishness make life great if used wisely. Selflessness isn't foolish in and of itself, most use it incorrectly. No matter what, selfishness and logic are some of my strongest powers. These two strengths will get me farther in life than most who have a romantic partner, especially in freedom. There is no freedom in love, going rogue is the only option. I'm proud to be a maverick as I improve my own power and avoid seeking help from humans, face to face, as much as possible. I am stronger than romantic love, because, once again, I stay true to myself. Staying true to myself is the sword I use to cut down delusion and defend myself against other lies. No human on Earth is my ally nor my enemy, I'm someone who lives for fun and not for a purpose like a soldier. Life isn't meaningful nor meaningless, we give it meaning, though I find most of life to be worthless. My life, devoid of romantic love, will keep pressing on the more I dive into freedom and the blissful depths of wise selfishness. As such, I will keep fighting onward against my enemies, romantic love and other frauds like it.

A Dream Called Erelah

I awake with the sweat of a distant dream....

Thinking of what I'd seen
Remembering what was in my mind's eye
Such sad, sad thoughts of a time gone by

I remember the heat of the desert and the dangers of camouflage men
of small remote villages.......and the people within

I recall a child.......I can still see her smile
Black was her hair, her hands they were oh so small
I can still see her face.........I remember it all

Erelah, yes that was her name
and ever since I met her my life's not been the same

She'd come to our station almost everyday
coming for her hunger, always to play
running round and round, hiding from us all
I still can hear her laughter........ I remember it all

Such a small girl, born into a ruthless world
A world where men prey upon men, and life is simply discarded like sand to the wind

Sunlight and shadows
One illuminates while the other falls
As days become weeks, distant voices call............

Messages of distress come over the wire
speaking of death, fire
of a small village, of evil men who rape, murder, and pillage

Cloaked with the tools of Azreal, the tarmac erupts
Awash in wind and sand, we're elevated into the air
Nap-of-the-earth quickly, mountains, valleys pass by fast
Distant souls burning, we ascend upon the village at last

Pyre smoke engulfs the senses, as it swirls around and around
Hovering high above, we descend swiftly to the chard ground
Toils of men are revealed in the dawn's light
The departed are scattered about as we scour for signs of life

From one burnt structure to another
We find nothing but hopelessness and despair
Only the dead and the dying, Iblis has been here

A familiar door, one I passed through many times before
Reluctantly I peer in, and to my great sadness I'd see
Little Erelah laying by her mother, still deep within a "dream"

But from this "dream" she'll not awake, nor shall she ever play
Both her innocence and life were taken

Never to learn to read, never to learn to write
Never to run and sing again, due to man's mindless strife

I promised to protect the children ever since that day
And always defend them against man's evil ways

And never ever forget her
That angel from above, or her simple message

LOVE.........

To me she was a moment of Spring, in a lifetime of endless Winter
She is but a dream..........
© M M Sii  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Branded Soul

Judgement day is every day when you're trying to survive in a decent way. Clean up your life and move away, to a new playground for the kids to play. It's an Oreo cookie way of life, broader than black and white. Trying to break to the surface to see the light, but you keep getting suppressed.. it takes all your fight.

Drop out came a long way.. From counting stacks of 3 to a GED. On the outside mamma's so proud of me. But inside she's scared she don't want to see me take another fall, slip up and lose it all. X'ed up, punching holes in the wall. She's cautious for my life, she cries: "I wish you could see it through my eyes".

Accidentally got caught up in the game and chase again. Never had let go, the past was still holding onto my hand. Slowly takes over, but you keep it undercover. Keep it on the low, thinking nobody's going to know. But somehow I stayed on top of it. Only slinging and drugging on the weekends and ****. Got through my Friday and played on payday. Dedicated worker specialized in crazy.

Then one I day my end started to begin. I changed my life and I traded it in.. For a camouflage uniform that covered the scars on my skin. I ended up losing my freedom, tied down with conflicting feelings. Gun in my hand, I was told to defend, the pain and the hell that I had abandoned. The bad guy in trusted boots, ripped myself from my roots. I planted my self far from the town I was raised in.

Kind of felt like I was betraying there trust, leaving my love for a life that's lust.
But then again.. I finally felt filled inside, alive. Maybe there was a reason I looked at my past, and wanted to run and hide. No longer scraping dough to get high. Now I see it again, that pride. The sparkle in mamma's eye. And for the first time it ain't a tear from fear. Can't plan ahead a god damn year. Now she has hope instead of dread, from that knock on the door saying: "Your little girl's dead."

I opened my eyes and I stopped listening. Closed my ears to the phrases of hustlers. "Act classy, you're a lady" was all they could muster. How did they think ladies could survive in these streets? Double standards of life, a game you'll never beat.

I lived how I wanted, they said it was no place for a girl. But once I shared what I had, it became our world. I found the "I" in family, once the pain killers got a hold of me. They kill the pain but bring the misery.

Premium Member Putin's Great Blunder

Putin said he wouldn't invade, but then he's known for his lies
So when he sent in his murdering scum, it came as no surprise 
It will go down in the annals of history, as Putin's great blunder 
And if anything it's united Ukraine, and not tore it asunder. 

American President Joe Biden has now found a way
To make that despicable war criminal, Vlad Putin pay
To Ukraine he's sending lethal predator, and reaper drones 
That will help to build stocks of dog food, of Russian bones. 

Russian soldiers are not human from what we have seen
You've read and seen the evidence, so you know what I mean
They're gutless and have yellow streaks all down their backs
And scurry down to the sewers when Ukraine counter attacks. 

Russians fire from a distance and let their lethal missiles fly
At hospitals, nurseries and any innocent civilians passing by
They only kill unarmed men, women and children, who pose no threat 
But Russia, the civilised world is watching  and we will not forget. 

Red flags are what the Russians are using, to justify a crime
But the world is not stupid and it can see through the grime
A Russian town on the border was shelled so they could blame Ukraine 
Then used it as an excuse to inflict, more misery and pain. 

Every Despot who commits war crimes will always pay the price
Putin the war dog will be put down, Ukraine will not think twice 
He'll have to surround himself with thugs and be lucky every day
But an avenger will only have to strike lucky once, to make Putin pay. 

No tears were shed when he lost his flagship, in the black sea
It is one lethal weapon less to use, against that war torn country 
The west thought sanctions alone would bring this war to an end
But it hasn't really worked, so more arms the west must send. 

The battle for the Eastern Donbas region is well underway 
And for those brave Ukrainian defenders, we must all pray
They're fighting to defend their freedom and sovereignty 
But only military aid from the West will ensure their victory. 

The horrific scenes we've seen on the news of towns reduced to rubble 
Are because Putin knows he's not winning and that he's in trouble 
At his forthcoming military parade, he's hoping to announce a victory 
But if he was an honest man he'd tell his country, that he's failed miserably. 




Written on 20th April 2022
Form: Rhyme


Street Life

Poet: Ken Jordan
Story: Street Life
written: July/2014


    Child, I have seen many nights
turn to dawn, out in the streets.
I was you once,  left home thinking that 
I could take care of myself at eighteen.
      
     My parents told me what to
expect from my decision to walk away 
from the one's who loved me.          
    
     Whatever they said, didn't matter, 
because I was mentally gone, (lost) and 
rushing to get out there in the unforgiving
 cesspool of street life. 
   
     One thing is clear,  once out there,
I learned very quickly what my parents 
tried to get me to see.
      
      The streets are cold , cruel , vicious,
 and everyone's for themselves.  

      When your money runs out, your group 
of so called "friends," are gone.

      No one is going to give you
something for nothing,  you make 
it the best way that you can.

      Looking back, the temptation of
being out there with my friends, 
doing whatever I wanted to do, 
without permission from my parents,
was the lure that motivated my
desire to leave home, and hang out
in the streets.

      My parents fought tirelessly to
protect me from the hazards of 
street life, but obviously, I wouldn't 
listen.

      They said son, you're too young at 
eighteen, haven't finished high school; 
you have no money.
       What makes you think that you can 
make it out there on your on.
  
   You think that it's cool to hang-out, smoke 
weed, drink alcohol, pop pills, do edible drugs, and stay up (high )
all night, and fallout wherever 
you are.

       The devil is a liar, he will set you up, 
to lure you in,  he'll make you think that 
you're, "part of his street family," but, when 
it all goes down, (and it will go down), the 
devil will point a finger your way,  and 
leave  you to defend yourself, and move 
on to the next victim.

 In street life, you better know  which-a-way 
 the wicked come.  
        They  wear false faces to hide who 
they really are.

      I played with the
devil, and crossed many murky,
dark rivers, but, the devil did not win.
 
      I heard my parents voice's saying,
"Theirs only two places to go 
from street life, prison or the cemetery."

    The devil is a lair, and he's not your
friend. be aware of who and what
you follow, because, all feathers
ain't good feathers, choose the path
of least resistance, and your life
will change for the good in you.
© Ken Jordan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Still Knocking On Heaven Door

Still knocking on the heaven door
I saw a soldier man crying 
At an after victory 
Oh man why you cry
Asked I with a confusion 
He said 
Tell God I asked why it 
Must be me 
Ask God why it has to be 
Like this 
For right now am
Still knocking at the heaven 
Door

Still knocking on the heavens door
Once I saw a brave man cry 
That a lot it tells 
A word is enough for the wise 
So this words so deep he said 
Tells us a lot 
Once he was young 
With an innocent mind like 
An empty glass
Time goes so he got educated
With an identification 
Of some enemies 
The empty mind now corrupt
So with time he became brave with 
This knowledge to war 
Time goes till he was a soldier man
Ready to defend his country 
Off to kill the enemy he goes
Like a scam of war 
He saw a deferent face from 
The enemy he knows 
As he realise the war was false
The real enemy was his gangs
Back home 
Who sent him off to war 
So betrayed he felt as already 
So many innocent he already 
Sent to lay in peace 
On the ground he bleeds 
So brave now he cry 
As first he asked why it must
To be me 
Ask God why it must to be me 
For right now am
Still knocking on the heaven door 

Still knocking on the heaven door
Once I saw the brave grief
Wonder why so I ask
Soldier man why you cry after 
A war victory 
You will never understand
First he said 
The war is not over 
Not until I feel peace inside me 
With this hands I slain
So I worth not to live 
War are not what you perceive 
Is better love than war 
With the gun I murdered 
So I worth not a love 
In me the war is not over till 
I know why it has to be this way 
For right now am 
Still knocking at the heaven door
I know God lies behind this close door

Still knocking on the heaven door
Have you ever seen the brave cry 
Is like to see an eagle without wings
Life is like a zero 
As wars is to vanity 
So on this Quest 
Only on this note 
You see the brave cry as the 
Soldier man now 
Still knocking on the heaven door

Still knocking on heaven door
Hope he found his peace
Hope he finally meet God
Behind the close door
For so wars will never be over
Until we feel love and peace 
Inside of us!
That only can come 
Only when the close door 
Of our ignorance is open
To love (God)
Until then all we can now do 
Is only but 
Still knocking on the heaven door
Form: Epic

Cattlecoaat Dipolamcy

THEY WERE NOT ADMIRED, THEY WERE HARDLY EVEN LIKED, THEY REFRAMED FROM COMMENT DUE TO THEIR DISPOSITION, ALLOWING
SOMEONE WITH A GREATER DISPOSITION TO BE IN CONTROLL. mONITERING
THEIR ABLITIES WOULD BE EASY AS THESE MEN WERE ADVANCE IN THEIR TRAINING. THEIR WORKS WERE OF THE TEACHINS OF "GEM FULLA" (WORLD FAMOUS SUBMITION GRAPPLER. ONCE KNOW IN THEIR NATIVE COSTA RICA AS
U-NEW, AND U-OLE, THEY HAD REIGNED SUPREME, UNTIL "THE MEN FROM DAFFA" CAME TO THEIR TERRITORY, AND MADE COMPANY MEN OUTTA FREELANCERS. THEY DEFEATED THE TWO IN A "COMMONGROUND- STANDOFF"( A TWO OUT OF THREE FALL SUBMITION MATCH) THEY WERE DEPOSSED BY THE PROMOTION, AND SHAMED BY THEIR PEERS, THOSE WHO SUGGESTED, THE TWO TO WEAR MASK, IN LIGHT OF THEIR SHAME. MONTHS LATER, WHEN THEY HAD REBOUNDED TO RECOVER, THEY HAD WON 25 OUT OF 33 MATCHES, AND HAD POSITIONED THEMSELVES FOR A CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE MATCH. THERE LUCK EVEN HAD THEM TO FIND FORTUNE IN MEXICO, WERE THEY BECAME CHAMPIONS NATIONAL, AND PRIMO JAPAN'S TOP-DRAW CHAMPIONS, BY DEFEATING THE LEGENDARY TEAM OF BRICE BULLSTRONG AND PANK PRICHARD. ONCE AGAIN THEY WERE ON TOP OF THE HILL WHEN THEY FOUND THEMSELVES COSTA RICAN TAG CHAMPIONS VIA, A NO-CONTEST STIPULATION IN THE CHAMPIONS CONTRACT, WHEN THE CHAMPIONS REFUSED TO DEFEND THE TITLE THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITY NAMED THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDERS THE NEW CHAMPIONS, ONCE THE TITLES WERE STRIPPED FROM THE CHAMPIONS,U-OLE, PULLED THE MASKED LUCHADOR INTO THE RING AND PINNED HIM, THIS CEMENTED THE REIGN, AND EVEN THE LOSSED CHAMPIONS GAVE CONGRADES TO THE NEW CHAMPIONS. 
     WE DON'T KNOW IF IT'S TRUE OR NOT, BUT THE APPEARANCE OF A NEW TEAM IN THE HIGHLY POPULAR WORLD BRAND RASSLIN, COMPANY NAMED THE DUO NUMBER FOUR IN THEIR INTERNATIONAL SERIES ( A TAGTEAM TOURNAMENT) BUT THE OPPOSING SIDE HAD A NEW TAGTEAM NAMED " RIVERRATTS" (PANINI PRESTON ANDAUX AMANDES ) WHO RESEMBLED THE COSTA RICAIN DUO. WORLD REKNBOWNED GRAPPLER, CUSSIN PAGE, CALLED OUT BOTH TEAMS TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SITUATION, BUT ONE TEAM DESIDED TO JOKE AROUND, AND SENT OUT TWO WOMEN DRESSED AS MEN IN MASKED TO ANWSER THE CHALLENGE. FORTUNATLY FOR THE FANS THE RIVERRATS RECORDED THE ANWSER TO THE CHALLENGE EALIER, THEY ACSEPTED THE CHALLENGE, AND THE MATCH WAS MADE FOR HOUSE SHOW PRIOR TO THE MAINEVENT TELEVISION EVENT. WE DON'T KNOW WHO THESE GUY'S ARE BUT WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT THESE PEOPLE HAVE TO SAY,

To the Friend That I Lost

thank you. thank you for finally leaving. it's been 7 years now that i have had to put up with your abusive and toxic habits. that i've had to deal with you adding to my emotional trauma every single day. that i've had to repress my feelings to accommodate yours. that i've had to act like something isn't bothering me when you're talking about your issues that are "far worse than mine". that i've had to leave my comfort zone and be a person i don't like so that you wouldn't leave. that i've had to be okay with being interrupted so you could talk about yourself. so you could brag about how much greater or worse your life is than mine, whichever fit the situation. that i've had to believe your lies and defend you when i know you're wrong. that i've had to look like a bad person for supporting you. 

because i was. 
you made me a bad person. you made me into a person that i've grown to hate. i am finally released and trying to love the person i left behind. before our friendship, i was a sweet, innocent, caring 8 year old girl. you ruined me. you took my innocence. i remember lying in my floor from "bedtime" to 6 AM doing things that no 8 year olds should. Watching scary movies that still haunt me and discovering “omegle”. i remember in 8th grade when i opened up to you about the girl you left behind when you moved, the girl that you broke. i opened up to you about my sexuality and my depression, and you brushed it off because you had it worse. "oh, you were depressed? that’s okay because my dad hit me". not that abuse isn't awful, but i have feelings too. and since that day i learned to never find myself important because to you, i wasn’t. you showed me that no matter how hurt i was, you had it worse. that no matter how good i had it, you had it better. you always had to one up me like trauma is a competition. 

i am damaged. you broke me. i can’t even begin to describe the issues i will hold for the rest of my life. this trauma will never be fixed. i can’t undo your damage, no one can. do you even realize? do you even care? i am a real human being that you f*cked up. how does that sit right with you? how do you have the nerve to act like I’m the bad guy? i will never understand how you don’t even care about a real human life that you ruined. 

but i guess that’s the difference between you and i. 


( lowercase intended )

-m. macleish
Form: Prose

Shana and Shano Part I

I leaned back and rubbed my work – weary 
eyes as the stress of teaching left my
mind. 

The children were playing a few yards away from me.
Their cheerful laughter could easily be heard above the
din of voices.

I checked on them briefly, then turned to the sky that 
stretched out in a seamless blue. Occasional clouds
floated by.

It was a beautiful day to be out. I was glad that I had decided
to take a break from work and bring the kids to the park. My
husband agreed whole hearted

The children had jumped at the opportunity to go 
play there; though it didn’t have much for play
equipment.

Despite the slight sheen of rust on the slide and
the dull pin pricks on the wood swing, the kids loved the
decrepit playground.

However if the parents ever found out what the children did
on the fallen play ground, they would be most 
certainly be shocked at the manner of it all. For those
 parents had no notion of what those children hid.	
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I looked at my twin in earnest. He had to understand.
In order to save Lishon  I had to go. Just had
to.

The river flowed before us with a vengeance. It was as if the
water was displeased with the rocks and it had taken upon
itself to punish them.

Jorden looked at me sadly at the thought of jumping.
 He knew that it would cost me my life if I 
did.

“You just can’t Clarisa. If you jump the Noli  will take over
Lishon and without you at the archers command they
will vanquish us.”

“Yes, but if the river is not quieted, our armies will drown.
As the Shana  of the sea I must have control: just as you must
control the evergreen and the willow.”

“That’s different and you know it. The sea is fickle and 
will turn its tide with little concern but to toss you from 
its grave.”

“Jorden I must do what I must and not you, nor 
the Noli, nor the Glifon , nor even the Great Shuka  can 
stop me.”

“Watch what you say Clarisa or the Great Shuka will
stop you.” Jorden’s features softened after this warning. 
He knew.

I looked at my twin affectionately. For all that he
was, Shano  of all trees and animals on land, he was
still my brother.

“Should I not return, defend Lishon with all you have. If
all goes well the frilena  shall bloom once more in Lishon’s
courtyard.”

Jorden’s eyes glimmered like the wisps of freed droplets
from the surge of the cataclysmic rapids that was once calm.
He knew.

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