Long Prayer Poems

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


Is It Real

Is it real or are you faking 
it? ;
Can you testify truly 
without a hit?
That it is as strong as it 
seems? ;

Even in the absence of 
every being;
You are poised to create a 
scene;
That goes against all sins;
I could call you the mustard 
seed;
But, is it worth it? ;
It is one thing to be known 
for something;
And another to be firm in 
acting;

The story begins with the 
action;
The test;
The great test that you 
can’t detest;
Your arms are tied;
Sitted in that waiting room;
And like a criminal that is 
tried;
You shiver like its all going 
to end in doom;
No! She must live…;
That’s what goes through 
your mind;
And even a quick magic 
right
now, you won’t dare to 
mind;

I thought you had it in you;
I thought it was for real;
Even after all the binding;
And through all the casting;
Your mind is still in a doubt 
situation;
And you run helter skelter 
in search of a faster 
solution;
From Church to Church;
From Temple to Temple;
And alas! From shrine to 
shrine;
How then can the light 
shine?
As it has finally been lost 
for a
cheap fine;

The word says it’s the 
evidence of
things not seen;
The assurance of things 
hoped for;
A supernatural gift given to 
you;
And yet your distance from 
it grew;
Like both sides of a forever
widening canyon;

You once testified;
That he was crucified;
Not for nothing sake;
But for our whole spiritual 
make;
A good reason for our 
belief in him;
And our total submission;

Have you forgotten or are 
you blinded? ;
Blinded by impatience and 
greed;
And now;
The big question;
Where lays your faith?
Is he not the same as he 
was in the past?
The healer, the provider, the
protector;
The I am that I am;
Where lays your faith?
An encouraging answer 
would
spark up a good fate;

After all the roaming for 
quick solution;
You still come back to your 
place
of true solution;
Inevitable!
That’s the word;
He raised Lazarus from the 
dead;
He said a word and the evil 
spirits
fled;
Does that ring a bell?
I guess it does now;
And it’s clear that you once 
lost
the faith;
And luckily it’s not too late;
Use the kneeler;
Make that prayer;
Have the belief;
Feel the relief;
And Alleluia
The problem is all gone;
The story of faith;
Preaching to your state;
Good or bad;
Hope it is real;
Hope it’s not fake;
Your faith;
Form: Pastoral


Premium Member A Tipping Balance




The song of my soul, sounds like light
fading shadows in notes of joy
serenity unfolding on the hearts of glory
where He lives – in the dewlike tears,
overwhelming sense of grace
pouring over the bruised seas, skies
flooded by prayers and praise….

The stories of God – His amazing
the tones of our praise
on the rhythms of soundless nights
skies pouring out hope, joy
blessings arising in the heat of summer
while gentling melodies, rich with light
fall like noon’s showers,
on the heavy hearts, the souls
who know He is the reason for each season
He is the love that rises from the mists,
in every soul, He is the promise, the hope
the moment we can know
love is in control…

the music, in notes of purity
rare songs who remember to hold on,
love like this is the light for every man,
love like this is beyond words
it is the plan, brought to hearts
long before the world began,
love like this is the reason I breathe
the story of a man who heard God’s plan
and came to earth, through a virgin birth,
restored each of us – by His death,
rising again, fulfilling that plan…

we can seek Him in the flowers
we can seek Him in the trees
we can seek Him in the sunlight,
on the trembling seas,
we can seek Him on the twilight
on the stars and in the moon
we can seek Him in each spring,
each summer and each autumn, too,
we can seek Him…

yet we will not find Him
without a heart that is assured
He is the way to heaven
He is the light, the way and truth
He is the life of every believer
He is the love that guides us through
He is the answer to every need
He is the prayer prayed 
and the assurance believed
He is a tipping balance
who offers us His never ending peace!

Cling to Him when you feel lonely
Cling when you feel like you can’t 
Cling when the way is dark with shadows
Cling when you know that you’ve failed
Cling when sins seem to haunt you
Cling when the journey is steep
Cling when all seems lost to you
Cling and just believe – He is a tipping balance
With Him, you will find the purpose of this life
With Him, you will know what it is to be free
With Him, you will be saved from outer darkness
With Him, you will be changed so you can…

let go and let God, who is only a prayer away
seek Him and let Him bless your life with His grace
let Him restore you to a place where you know love is the only way!

Premium Member Eternal Goals

I set out to write a verse
A verse of prayer and praise
Words to worship the One
Who created me and gave to me
A sense of hope, purpose, faith
Love that lingers in my soul
Capturing the essence of joy

I set out to write my thoughts
Pertaining to my Lord
The One who caused me to love
With all my heart and soul
Without conditions, limits or terms
With everything that He gave
Appreciation, kindness and grace

I set out to give back to Him
A bit of the love He’d given me
The compassion and gentleness, the charity
That came alive with a prayer for His
Love to open up my heart
And light the spark that was hope
Abiding there within my soul

I set out to bring worship to Him
Who had brought affection to my spirit
Singing to me of dreams everlasting
On visions that whisper through my heart
Forcing me to listen to the brilliant thoughts
Discovered in the miracle of His gifts
The treasure of joy found within - through Him

I set out to live my life for Him
Despite many mistakes, sins that left me sorry
I gave my best, leaving all the rest 
To bring to Him my greatest attempts to give
With a heart that appreciates His gift
Of salvation, deliverance, escape from anguish
That comes to those who do not believe

I set out to listen to the whisper
Of His still, small voice – His direction
His correction, affection and the connection
That caused me to believe in His wisdom and strength
The blessing of love so alive it could dance
Through the soul on a breath from His lips
Breathing out love so sweet it leaves pure peace

I set out to give someone a chance to see
The hope, faith and love that live inside of me
Because I took the hand of the One who died for me
And listened to the voice of my Father God
Who told me to live as if I had His heart
And could love better than I could every imagine
With a love that’s been lit by a fire of compassion

I set out to give someone joy and hope
But soon discovered that He had given me the gift
Through the wisdom that lives within
When He answers a prayer I’ve prayed
For words to give back to someone a part of me
The piece of my heart that knows 
He is there, alive and wise, controlling it all

I set out to give and found… His love within my soul
Love that is my eternal goal

Prey In a Cage

I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake, 
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.

Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.

The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.

The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.

Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk. 
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".

I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.

I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.

The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.

His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
 
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
 
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
 
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.

- Anonce
Form: Ballad

Ode To Tai-Ana At Age Ten and Far Away

1

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing  thee, thyself  in turn.

Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke – 
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.

I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore – 
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.

‘Twas all I had.
			
			2

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.

Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.

I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more – 
remembering thy portrait in my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

.			3

Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions,  mind alert, thy hungering to learn.

Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.

I watch thee grow, and will,  forever more – 
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.

‘Tis all I have.

		4

Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee 
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee. 

Break loose those  prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain – 
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft – 
all a capella – pure and long.

Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.

Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.

[Finis]
Form: Ode


The Morning Soars With Skylarks Singing Repost

The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Form: Verse

The Morn's Alive With Skylarks Singing

The morn's alive with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds loud, 
and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
Form: Verse

No One Gets Out Alive

Though (supposedly) only
     the good die young, urn holding
     cremated ashes a mere cup
full, every last man standing falls,
     cuz nobody else
     escapes un pup
yule lore blitzkrieg, 
     or aging gracefully,

     the unavoidable eventual fate,
     (mortal fateful demise),
     sans the remaining unsung
anonymous peoples meet up
with the grim reaper,
     who will ineluctably disrupt
the carryings on
     with each and every individual

     (non plus ultra all other
     life forms as well)
     gradually or with abrupt,
and unannounced debut
     scythe lent lee appearing
     to whisk away the
     honest and/or corrupt
whether taking their

     first meal of the day,
     and/or last sup
per, perhaps sitting quietly,
     when body electric
     amp pare rent lee
     receives ohm 
     my word fatal invite,
     whereat permanent shocking

     quiescence doth, sans
     stealth maneuver erupt
tragically, indiscriminately, 
     and blithely
     mowing down innocent civilians,
     and/or training fate squarely
     upon heads of soldiers
     life during wartime,

where opposing armies regale
     while marching men go hup...
to three fore (akin
     to a story field day),
     winning booby prize, viz
counting on qua,
     asper winning lottery
     and/or Stanley Cup

major blood bath rendered
     significant counting coup
whereat each opposing fighting
     force figuratively doth slew
the other, analogously dost defeat
making mince meat
re: as uniformed brigades in heat
of wanton killing

     fields sliced minced,
     chopped nada so vary neat,
via stealth unable dupe, nor cheat
death be not proud,
     et cetera, nonetheless,
     grimly forced to greet
     a bonanza coup won,
     only tubby beat

tin to pulp by adept
     skull and excellent fleet
of foot (top
     notch crafted) sweet
(albeit) temporary victory
     tasting said treat
assailing, bruiting , and/or
     weathering stance versus

     alternating between defensive
     and/or offensive
     use of cross bones,
     in a hail of bullets
     instantaneously didst greet
fast and furious i.e. suffering

     deadly raking har row
ring slaughter, an entire
     phalanx gone, where
     (metaphorical terrible swift sword)
no uniformed fighter
     can never call retreat.

Its Not a Religion It's a Life Style

Its not a Religion it’s a Life style 

Its not a Religion it’s a Life style Don’t be Blind by your belief. Or too blind to see that if you 
are not For Christ there is something that you do believe. No such thing as a non 
Believer. In life we are all receivers of something or shall I say someone. 
So don’t think for once you are operating under your own mind. There’s nothing
comical about the truth the light the things the vision of Christ.

 He’s not a celebrity Superstar so don’t get it twisted. More to say is he is the star who 
created existence which none of us can Shine without his light. No you may not need a 
Sunday Television. But you do need That divine intervention. Where he can come into your 
life and you can accept him as Your Christ Lord and Savior. Of all things please don’t 
quench the Holy Spirit as the old Folks use to say don’t make jokes of the Holy Ghost.

 If you think you don’t need time for Prayer or any of the other things. When you down to 
the lowest low I guarantee you will call Upon his name. Oh you say that for you its never 
been hard. Well the word say every knee Shall bow and every tongue will confess that 
Jesus Christ is Lord. If you don’t want a place Up there maybe you will be the first to be 
comfortable in hell. Just because you think your Head is alright a fool do too. No scientific 
tool can be use when you meet him face to face. Don’t let your logical man get in the way 
of what your spirit man is trying to show you. 

The Devil is good at deceiving a liar that can never speak the truth. But try Jesus he will 
never fail You. You come in asking for a miraculous vision. When the gift of Life was a 
miraculous decision. To be living in someone else and live in this world and not accept that 
Jesus plays a Hugh role in your Life. So the style you living let it be for Christ. But I can see 
why when you have so many false lies of Super heroes and other people want God job. 

But don’t let your spirit be rob. Confessing the truth can Put the enemy so far behind you. 
Things that you think you have to fight with, God he will make it right. Line up in his word 
speak it everyday so you can be heard. Not be heard by people but by that thing that’s 
trying to keep you mental. Mentally distracted from the real. Confess the Word to be 
healed. Don gamble your life. Don’t gamble your life.
Form: Lyric

But We Pray

O God! Will you answer my prayers?
O Lord! Will you take away my tears?
O Divine! I am so worried about my fears 
We pray, but don't know the meaning of our prayers 

Of course, most of the world does pray 
Not many of us know the meaning of what we say 
We just fold our hands and close our eyes 
And call out to the one who we think is above the skies 

If we pray, but don't understand what we say 
Then we don't pray, at best we bray!
It's time to stop and find out the truth 
What is prayer? Get to the bottom of the root

Who is God and where is He?
Aren't our prayers for God meant to be?
If we don't know God, but still we pray 
Then who is listening to what we say? 

We pray because we have some desire 
Or because of problems that consume us like fire 
Isn't there a reason we go to God?
Or just for fun do we pray to our Lord?

 Some people pray because they truly love God 
There are others who pray out of fear of the Lord 
A very few pray to express their thanks 
They evolve in life's journey and cross to God's banks 

Prayer has a purpose, to God we do talk 
Some stop to listen, they don't just walk 
Prayer that works is a two-way communication 
A tool that leads to ultimate liberation 

There are rituals and superstitions in every religion 
They make us get confused and cloud our vision 
We are so controlled by what our scriptures say 
That we just blindly follow, day after day 

Is prayer all about mumbling something to God?
Is it about praying, not knowing who is our Lord?
Unless we first know who God truly is 
We may say many prayers, but the main point we miss 

Therefore, in quest of God, we must go 
We must ask questions until we ultimately know 
God is not someone made of bone and skin 
He is a Power that lives within

How do we know that God is a Power?
When will we stop praying at some religious tower?
If we must realize the truth about God 
First know, who is the one that's praying to the Lord 

Self-realization marks the beginning of our quest 
It asks questions putting every belief to test 
Then we realize that we are not ego, body, and mind 
We are the Divine Soul, this truth we find 

What is the Soul? Is it different in you and me?
The Soul is a Power, different it cannot be 
It is one Power that gives life to everything on earth
It goes when we die and it comes at birth
Form: Lyric

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter