Long Fallen angels Poems
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The moon was blue,
consumed with gloom.
The stars were scared,
yet fully aware.
There was a crack,
where I stepped back.
The darkness,
grew darker.
I heard a sound,
a mighty sound.
The heavens shook,
upwards I looked.
The crack had grown wider,
I fell inside her.
The angels looked mad,
their faces were sad.
They couldn't fly,
they wouldn't try.
A black feather floated by,
on the other side,
Of heaven was I,
had I died?
I wanted to leave,
God help me please.
Words from him as I pled,
"I gave you two knees, while I bled,
With two eyes you can see,
and two feet to walk with me".
I understood every word,
And went back home, to my Lord.
Never again will I go,
Where I let darkness take a hold,
Of a weakened soul,
where fallen angels forever roam.
I awoke,
the crack had closed.
A white feather fell to earth,
I know that it was meant for me.
Under leaden skies where shadows gather,
We look back at the great tragedy of the ages,
Since the Enlightenment, we admire the shattered dreams,
Where optimists, as architects of false hopes,
Have woven the warp of fear and bitter fury.
The fire of illusion rose like a falling star,
Its light shining over darkened lands,
But the flames of dreams became burning infernos,
Where angel wings and the voices of humanity burned in darkness.
In the ash temples of the troubled past,
The ghosts of the Holocaust and the Gulag whisper,
Great crimes, born of dazzling mirages,
Are painted on the canvas of history, by the hand of unbridled desire.
On the night sky, we weave constellations of despair,
From dead stars and galaxies of remorse,
We are not surprised that illusions have nourished deep wounds,
When those drunk on hopes created ruins of desire.
The palaces of dreams were built on abysses,
In labyrinths of longing and eternal deceptions,
Their towers, constructed from the sands of time,
Collapsed under the desert weight of empty promises.
Fallen angels weep in the recesses of memory,
On wings broken by ideals too high for humanity,
And the souls that believed in earthly edens,
Found only desolate fields, filled with sorrow and silence.
Gazing towards unknown horizons,
In this timeless scene of immortality,
The optimist wanders, an alchemist of his own disaster,
Turning the gold of hope into the lead of eternal regret.
And beyond the mist of time, in complete unknowing,
Only echoes of lost illusions remain,
There, where the curtain is moth-eaten,
We see only masks and spirits that dance in silence.
In the mystic darkness of our existence,
Lies the painful truth of our dreams,
In a cosmic chaos that intertwines hope and ruin,
The optimist and the pessimist, united in the infinite dance of destiny.
Midnight tolls across the sky
Ash falls where fallen angels cry
Every lie you left behind
Returns through space and time
You thought the night would hide the flame
You thought no one would speak your name
But wheels of fate grind right around
And drag the truth up from the ground
Footsteps echo down the hall
Every whisper hits the wall
Secrets buried deep in stone
Rise in flame to claim their own
Every dagger that you throw
Waits its turn to strike you slow
The blade remembers every scar
No matter where you think you are
Lightning cracks the silent sky
Judgment rides the thunder riding high
Every deed, a burning brand
Tattooed on a hidden hand
You can run but never flee
From the ghost of memory
The circle closes cold and fast
When future greets the poisoned past
Shadows gather in the flame
Every oath recalls your name
All the debts you left unpaid
Stalk the night where they're made
What goes around, comes around
Iron wheels grind underground
Judgment tolls; bells resound
Fate curls back, on the merry-go-round.
On the merry-go-round
On the merry-go-round
Glistening Glimmer;
Glitter Gold to chase
The Pot.
A Richness Galour
Of Fallen ANGELS,
Beauty...
..That Shimmers A
Love Featherd among
A White wing spread.
To the pearly gates of
PETER I have come to
An understanding: agape'
Love is all around.
So bless those who
Will follow me, and fear
The ones who don't.
As I Step up to the stair
Way to heaven... To
Open my soul.
To lead gods exsample,
For he was known
To retain all sin, and release
Them to his flood of Wrath...
Beyond the waters.
Against 40 days n' 40 nights,
To survive it's blasting roar;
I have become one with him
For he is my true father... For
He is Our only GOD!
Aboard boat by TWO'S.
In those primitive times of long, long ago
when behemoths wandered the land
when mankind was wicked and ruthless and raw
and battles were ever at hand.
An unruly unrest reigned on the earth
and rebellion was wild and free
for God turned His back on the people he made
and regretted what they came to be.
On the blackest of nights, on the darkest of days
fallen angels were cast from the skies
then entering into the daughter's of men
a new race began from on high.
So the Nephilim roamed, those aliens of old
a people of lusts and desires
warriors all, great giants so tall
reigning with blood lust and fire.
A ruthless tribe, with dark hearts inside
in chaos, they spread misery and hate
but in due time, God's patience was tried
hence, the Great Flood would seal their fate.
In a humbler man, a new chapter began
for in Noah, God renewed all mankind
with a rainbow so bright, and a heavenly light
filled with hope and new promises to find.
Written on 1/10/2018
“BEFORE THE NIGHTMARES DREAMS"
ambitions pleasant
calm, little angels dreams stand
beyond rainbows realms
dreams pleasurable
calm, fallen angels strong stands
before the rainbows
nightmares gather wool
future creeps demons flee run
turns into nightmares
gathering daydreams
a bad, future screams sleeping
in the old nightmares
in my dream I'm scared
when I sleep I never die
in dreams, I just fly
fly far away from
dangers stare woolgathering
those above nightmares
before the rainbows
before those nightmares are dreams
there's comfort in dreams
--------------------
7/21/19
Multiple-Haikus Poetry Contest
Haiku poetry form only
Sponsored by: Jamie Pan
“Dream” Topic chosen
_______WRITER'S STATEMENT_________
In my poem “BEFORE THE NIGHTMARES DREAMS" is based on the theme of dreams. I show that before the nightmares there are dreams. Nightmares are spontaneous scary uneasy temporal dark moments. While rainbows are that permanent promise. A dream is eternal and forever. Long-lived easy to obtain. Dreams can't harm you only nightmares. Dreams a series of thoughts, our soul images, our soul and sensations occurring in a person's mind during a sleep state of mind our soul in which someone is or seems to be unaware of their immediate surroundings. Dreams a cherished aspiration, ambition, and ideals forthcoming, present future tense.
The Hell That I Deserve
At the top of a cliff
Surrounded by darkness and doubt
I see you in the valley
Surrounded by a light
I can hear the slightest sighs of angels from the valley
Drowned out by the screams of my demons
There is no pathway down to you
The cliff is lined with talon like rocks
Fallen angels hold my arms back
Holding me against my will
All I can do is stand and look down at you
You would never hear my screams
You would never hear what I want to say
I will die on this cliff
All alone while you thrive in God’s light
I can never meet you
Never talk to you
Never gently kiss your lips
It is true that I have sinned more than once
Standing alone on a cliff with you below
I know that this is my hell to endure
If only the demons would quit screaming
I could hear your voice
I could hear the sighs of the angels surrounding you
Then my hell
The hell that I deserve
For one moment this cliff would be a paradise
Demons have fallen, Angels have cried
the Earth is spinning, death is alive
Blood drips always and makes flowers bend
They lose their petals, to the ground they descend
Hope is cherished by the poor and down trodden
Bones we dig up from ancestors we've forgotten
Life seems a passing world to remember
Until it's gone to leave a memory's ember
The mind creates illusions that never remain
We all play the joker on the stage of disdain
We yearn for beauty in spaces we fill
Yet pile our garbage among the daffodils
The water we drink a chemical dump
We stuff our mouths so every body's plump
We seek amusement and its driving force
To be entertained, bet some money of course
Life moves rather quickly, lest we forget
We're nothing more than rooms filled with marionettes
2/11/17
contest Theatre of the Absurd
The Hierarchy of Darkness
Not the bleeding flesh is the enemy that bites in sleep, but thought—
archai on high thrones where light is forgotten shadow.
The principalities don't wear crowns, but carry the age in their palms,
sit on thrones of celestial ash, luminous from so much night.
Exousias—physical power is shadow that is light,
and minds are empty temples where gods sleep in chains.
Orders flow downward as springs flow upward,
and who carries the scepter carries the wounds of the voiceless one.
Kosmokratoras—masters of the world that doesn't exist yet,
coordinate darkness like a symphony of extinguished stars.
Saraba choshekh—princes of night conduct light in chains,
and in heavens below they live, in depths above they breathe.
Pneumatika—evil spirits are angels with pure wings,
ben-beliyyaal, sons of Satan, with saint's hands on man's forehead.
Shedim in epouraniois—fallen in righteous elevation,
shamayim is hell above, and hell is heaven untouched by clay.
The hierarchy falls upward—Satan is the root of the inverted tree,
fallen angels are branches that grow in heaven's soil.
Political leaders, religious ones—leaves that tremble from wind,
and people in the chain of command are dew that climbs back up.
Each category executes the orders from below,
for the pyramid stands with its peak in the deep and base in heaven.
Who fights against flesh fights with his own echo,
the true enemy is light that pretends to be darkness too well.
In the heavenly places where heaven is earth and earth is ether,
live the spirits like bodyless people who wear faces.
Vazdukh shamayim, earth eres, depth sheol—
three worlds in one single, the shattered mirror in three whole pieces.
Melancholy isn't sadness, but lucidity without cure,
to understand that the fight is lost before the triumph begins.
Paul prisoner in Rome knew what stones also know:
freedom is a cell smaller than the prison that liberates you.
I.
Before the world, before the sun,
when time was young,
and heaven's hosts together as choir sung
before the angels fell, who came undone.
If Satan's base rebellion was not lost,
like pride cast down (by God with lightning speed),
then mankind would not have to pay the cost,
whilst on the earth a still evolving seed.
Thus, for the fallen angels, hell was made:
but as apple's bitten, Eden's lost in trade.
II.
The sun was formed; as heaven fell,
like rocks from space,
inferno licked the cradled, empty race
of planets, denser now than gaseous shells.
Among them, Earth, where life had given birth;
while the moon ruled the ancient, raw, night sky,
as now-extinct beasts made nest, home, and hearth,
and predators likewise preyed, to then die.
For what untold eons, for ages, since,
a race far greater shall know their promised prince.
III.
Though the great dinosaurs once ruled, the Fates
cut short the threads
of their time on earth, so what new now spreads,
spreads for what eternal Providence awaits!
So, in the Garden of Eden, Adam,
and then Eve, were made. They thrived, and rebelled,
there that self-same season: so that atom
upon atom of man was e'er befell.
Ever since that moment, that ancient time,
man's neither known freedom, nor peace from his crime.