Long Immortal Poems
Long Immortal Poems. Below are the most popular long Immortal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Immortal poems by poem length and keyword.
A lonely demon
Sad life, live alone, always, since timeless time
Since time immemorial, a sadness, endless time
Live in the ocean of time, ageless life, sad kind
This demon is full of desire, a cursed creature
People don’t like him, they think he is satanic
Is not. He is only restless solitude, living alone
A wanderer around the world, a people lover
A good soul, a good heart, a selfless demon
A sensitive being, a suffering creature of God
This demon is my friend, sometimes we meet
In the cemetery, oh, lovely place! Playground!
This is his residence, an invisible castle; light
Shiny this amazing fortress, a nice stronghold
My demon friend lives there alone. Great home
Elegant old furnishing and huge rooms and halls
But my demon friend is so sad, because alone
He always watching the ladies, he needs one
Hmm, it is not possible to meet with a human lady
because this friendly demon is a being of spirit
He hasn’t a body, but he wants to try human life
with a lady. Hmm, he has followed us for a long
time ago. For a thousand years, oh time is wrong.
Just watching the humans, the ladies, the families
Poor demon is alone, he has no family and no love
His castle is full of emptiness, just ring the silence
Sometimes we drink together, I bring dry red wine
He loves it, and he always gave me a demonic drink
It’s comes from hell, and amazing blue wine, a life
Drinking this giving a new life, phosphorescent wine
The demon said you do not need to learn the other life
Just drink, and follow my line, we are together in time.
In time? I asked him. In the space of time. Answered.
He is right, but I have no time, and he is an immortal.
Lonely demon, my brother, please teach me your life
I want to be like you, a super demon, an immortal
Not easy my life, but you are a student, still mortal
The sad demon wants to be a human, lonely his life
He is suffering a lot, why am I a demon? Why?
He can’t change his life, can’t be a human, sad life
… immortal.
In the beginning, was the “primeval atom”
according to the scientific datum.
From a state of infinite density,
known as the primordial singularity,
the atom experienced faster-than-light expansion,
followed by a massive temperature reduction.
More heating and cooling produced protons and neutrons
the building blocks from which life eventually grew.
In the beginning, there was a collapsed star,
begins a theory that sounds so bizarre.
From the debris which that black hole spewed
the universe eventually grew.
In the beginning, there was antimatter,
and an equal amount of matter,
according to plasma cosmology,
the plasma universe theory.
The interactions of electromagnetic fields
a superabundance of plasma yielded.
Plasma produced matter and antimatter.
Our universe eventually formed purely of matter.
In the beginning, there was God,
omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent,
immortal, invisible, infinite, and eternal.
God spoke this universe into existence.
The seeming infinity of the universe,
it’s intricate and incomprehensible complexity
testifies of the God who created it.
Mortals, be awed, acknowledge, and worship Him.
A Wordsmith’s pen
Is mightier than the sword
For he can turn a tricky word
Into a verbal weapon
And win the day against the hoard
The words of the Bard
It’s not very hard
The turn of a friendly card
The changing of the old guard
The wicked witch is feathered and tarred
The sky above is dark and starred
It’s feeling out loud
The dancing of spirit abounds
The singing of the soul
The mind and body are whole
Although sometimes it makes no sounds
Manifestations of mental visions
Put to paper by steward, or vassal
On cotton, leather or papyrus passel
Seeing illusions and derisions
Inside the book, the bookmark’s tassel
Of words and dreams, and fantasies
Muses and fancies
Blissful and blithe
Demons and monsters, and zombies alive
Somehow the dead come back to life
Shadows and shades of torment
Ghouls and ghosts, and wraiths
Humans tear at their at the clothes and lament
And prophets forecast and forebode advent
Fortune tellers and soothsayers say
The mind screaming in pain
Devotion and emotion
Evolution and convolution
The sane are temporarily insane
The brain suffers erosion
To purify what has been defiled
Or deride what is pretentious
Celebrate what is momentous
Of the humors; blood and bile
Are both infectious
Soul speak
Affirmation of thought and deed
The lookers seek
All of those who have a need
Reap of the sown seed
Strong encourage the weak
Travels in time and place
Exploring inner and outer space
The Children of the Is
Sing the songs that were once His
Though the Old Man’s dead and gone
His legacy lives on
From dusk ‘till dawn
Memories in tome eternal
Glimpses of Heaven
Thoughts of Hades infernal
Rolling sevens and elevens
Immortal mortals
Of a limited time
Speaking in riddles and rhymes
This poem a babbling run-on thing
Pondering, wandering and wondering
A beautiful mind
It should be dismantled and dismembered
Fuses blown, circuits fried, wires unwind
The Dancing divine
When remembered…
People like us are under attack—
not by sun nor midnights moon ,
but by whispers in the marrow upon the shore where even silence is heard.
There are footsteps in my sinews,
there is thunder in my bone,
and the body I once trusted
is a path in the forest now overgrown.
I am under attack—
by the clock that will not sleep,
by the sutures of remembrance
stitched too shallow, stitched too deep.
Every scar becomes a window
where the storming memories pass,
and the present, pale and shivering,
wears the mask of their past.
I hear the raven in the rafters
and the crow in my ribs—Endure, endure,
while the pulse beats out red words
no physician can stay.
I have named the ache a monster of men,
given grief it's cracked immortal face,
it multiplies like rats in the stain of darkness,
breeding echoes of sin with out end.
O" my mind, besieged and burning hot,
keeping watch on the rampart though hope is thin;
for the night is loud with Interlopers, knocking, knocking
that even now forces me to let them all in.
Still I stand within the outward ruin,
I answer locked doors when they knock—
for to breathe is an objection, not over looked
and to live in this shame I can barely endure.
Let the shadows crowd round my naked threshold,
let them hiss ancient words in long forgotten lore;
I am under attack—yes—under attack
but I am not by you, evermore.
One bright day
the sun will shine,
and all weather
will be fine;
One fine day
I will meet you
in the light –
and there-on-in
will be bright;
One golden day
a jewel of a day
will sparkle,
putting laser focus
on the center stone
in the ring of Christ's
glorious bride –
One eternal day
men will no longer hide
from truth, opening to the
beams of his Risen Star, the
immortal nature of transfigured
being – releasing all from the
bonds of sin and death – closing
earth's ears to the Devil's
maniacal, hypnotic evil
voice –
One Victorious day
man, awakened, will make
the way of heaven his conscious
world-choice,
transforming creation,
our soul's divinely united
majestically living emaciation....
In a search for a definition,
I did not expect to discover
the word 'Inhale' connected
to the word 'Inspire'. It is
to 'breathe in'.
To expire is to 'breathe out',
to emit air from the lungs. To
give off, or eject. It's also
another way of saying, 'Exhale'.
Oh, the wonders of God's great
creation of life for all living
creatures. The flow of life via
'Inhale' is an ever-burning beacon
of light until such time when we
breathe or 'Exhale' our last breath.
Therein lies somewhere between
inhaling and exhaling, a Divine
Authorization for the process.
Oh, the mystery of it all. Yet, the
Master of it all has revealed measures
of truth that liberates us with hope.
It is He who releases us (in a moment),
from this body of death and decay. And
it is He who connects us (in an instant),
to our new immortal body for eternity.
112322PS
Dictionary.com
In this world, love does not find its place,
It is born with hope, but soon it shatters,
Withering in the waiting rooms of the soul,
Choking in messages that never arrive,
Dying slowly, in silence, when no one is watching.
What remains scatters into stories,
Written by those who were never chosen,
They stitch their ruin into silent verses,
Carving their names into deep pains,
And dress their sorrow as if it were destined beauty.
Love never stays in hands,
It finds no place even in hearts,
So they bury it in immortal pages,
Where no one leaves and nothing is forgotten,
A sanctuary of unfading memory and lost dreams.
Through lines of ink, hope becomes eternal,
In a universe of words where time does not wound,
Where every tear transforms into stars,
And every wish rises like a silent song,
In the silence of the pages, love finds refuge.
In a space of silence where echoes do not fade,
Love lives like a phantom dancing among letters,
Where souls find solace in memories,
And in every story, love is rewritten always,
Like an eternal dream of those who never give up.
My love life truly is humanities' first dumpster fire
Not a wife to the chosen man; just dust from the same pan
Never the true love of heavens disgraceful clipped sparrow
A myth to those who think they've felt sufferage conspire
The other women from times beginning; imagine if you can
If someone; anyone, would have split that apple with an arrow
Immortal our paring, eternal love designed to bloom but never tire
But blind faith stepped in; to act out our benevolent sovereigns plan
My immortality was sacrificed for so-called perfection based on one man's marrow
By refusing to submit, his wrath named me "Lilith" to damnations' highest level for a woman, I would...... aspire
String of muffled gunshot let a mute howl be heard in the throat of heaven,
Sound of thunder hope with fear of death merry black white,
My sigh far away lost forgotten by death that keeps it alive forever,
Obsession crooked and alive atrocious ferocious precocious gentle as a velvet knife.
With a face of fear of life to leave as inheritance the forgetting of love,
Silent speech and an atheist holy idea an immortal woman dying eternally,
To descend from the sea into the depth of heights ample décor modest grandiose,
Comfortable unbegun end anode of longing of dying living in the agony of birth.
Come again suddenly my love from girlish love old young,
With kisses immaculate dirty hearth youth without old age aged,
And a death without whispers screaming silences always the same she ever-changing,
Yes your friend my bitterness sweet IT woman of chocolate bitter as honey.
The shot string sings death the deaf howl of life being born dying,
The thunder of desperate hope ignites my fear with the light of merry darkness,
My sigh near distant is lost found by living death that kills me,
The straight crooked obsession lives atrocious gentle ferocious tender precocious old.
The face of my feline puppy looks at me with courageous fear of dead life,
My lost inheritance is hated love mute speech faithful atheist idea,
The immortal woman falls into death from the heavenly sea of bare earth,
The past future unfolds in narrow ample décors in painful comfort.
My unbegun end continues to stop in the cathodic anode of longing,
I die living in the ephemeral immortality of the eternal moment that births me into death,
Come suddenly slowly my urgent slow love from the hated love of girl,
With your immaculate soiled kisses cold warm hearth secular eternal youth.
Death without whispers screams its silence always the same different perpetually new,
Your strange friend my bitter sweetness the IT woman of digital carnal chocolate,
My shot string sings the deaf howl of our dead living love,
In the silent thunder of desperate hope with happy fear of immortal life.
Obito’s immortal
You wished you had more time with everyone
But life has taken that away
You protected your friend, defended him
Stood below a falling rock
Your right side got crushed, you hardly feel it
Never gave your friend a gift for becoming a jounin
But on the minutes of death, you thought of something
Something that is not a useless luggage
You gave him your Sharingan!
A gift that you had not life to use twice
A gift that showed your loyalty
After you have hated your friend, after all the words he said
You became friends, he rescued you from all the bad guys
And you offered and gave in return your life, your Sharingan!
I can never believe the love
I can never imagine the friendship
I will always hate the fate
You have died; your friend has lived…
What rule does this follow?
The rule of God, the will of his that will stay…