Long Fantasylight Poems
Long Fantasylight Poems. Below are the most popular long Fantasylight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fantasylight poems by poem length and keyword.
On a dark isle off Scotland's west coast
There sits a castle with it's evil host
This harbourer of witchcraft and demonic doom
Is to leave this planet like a deathly dark tomb
Servants of the night as they have in the past
Will once again rise to finish their task
Summoned they will come from the fires of Hades
Black angels of him to the light they'll degrade
At every full moon they command the skies
They will unleash their fear with shrieking cries
These bat shaped creatures with heads of snake
Devour their enemy to a deadened shake
Villages and towns make ready their night
The safety of the clans from evils delights
Deep in the cellars and caves where we hide
Discussions for hope to repair this divide
Tears flow as emotions are shared
When this hell is over how many of us will be spared
From where we shelter we hear terrorising screams
To the older of us, it's more reoccurring dreams
Into the hours of the morn the onslaught goes on
What kind of a place can these creatures come from
Suddenly we hear the most thunderous of crashes
As the cobalt blue black is cut through with flashes
We see on the hills the glowing of white
Sporadic they are as they come out of the night
These riders of white on unicorns they ride
Is this what will save us and repair the divide
They raise their arms releasing white silver flashes
Connecting with these creatures as they turn into ashes
Many hours of conflict as the dawn brings a new day
The land reeks of battle and deathly decay
As we enter the light and our surroundings we view
The count leaves not many, I'm just one of a few
To the unicorns we turn, in praise to declare
But we see nothing at all, they were no longer there
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-5.php
Swimming in a forest of Great and tall Trees,
Walking in a sea of fragrance so sweet
and Glowing in the doorway,
Blue eyes are gleaming....
It's the Green Man and he sees me dreaming.
In a swirl of blue around the Earth drew,
his Oceans to protect the Seas.
A light in a beam, he shines in a stream,
creating the electric bees. And a breeze...
Giving life in the Light and a cycle so right,
he's growing his love in the seeds.
Making glow candle bright to continue right
he's loving his Trees into Light.
And they're beaming....glowing on the wick
and streaming...
It's the Green Man and he sees me dreaming.
"Come the Great Bat" by his side in a stride
Nurishing Time that was right for the flight.
Feeding with care and with love and with pride,
the MasterPeace Trees on his Mountain side.
Makes a Moon shine in a Knight she's seeing,
Two eyes through, the light and they're beaming...
The Green Man's Trees are the seas in my dreaming.
9.
like the light
like the dark
yet it is full of the sound of steps
again it wakes up on the forest-road
taking leave from the yellow construction
all the sound of the bamboo-flute
sinks today into the green minerals
it is not moonlight
on the road it is some north-east sadness
he who comes admits his body
with the divine sin
if you are sorry be water for three days now
through out the day and night
there is the paraffin of fire-flies
the blue cough is not from the sky
it may be some tusu-gaan fly off
from the chest of the straight-line
that has been wiped out
10.
i’ve deposited my metallic heart
to the archaeological-store of the wind
and i send rolling this bare eyes towards the fog
frequently
i make the crystal of her hair soft
i can see those crows
whose jaws are not closed
the colour is also
as if it were burst into cotton
can the anchal of danekhali sari swallow the kernel
and water of the blue tooth-brash after opening its husk
i say to the head with earnest request
oh my father keep cool
and look at the rain-pipe inside which
there is all the dances of the peacocks
11.
in the dim light
the predecessors of the dead stars
tell stories
this dhaba
is beside the long bus-root
yet it is still not satisfied
with the shrimps
the tail of the black drongo
hanging from the farakka bridge
is divided
towards the ganga
towards the padma
the gramophone of the mid-noon
continues to sound at the midnight
those who are doing pilgrimage
on the back of tigers
within the lighting zone of their torch
all the nearest of men who get lost
cover their faces
you know very well that the memory-gland of the wind
becomes how much river-minded when it walks through the fire