Long Sadsong Poems
Long Sadsong Poems. Below are the most popular long Sadsong by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sadsong poems by poem length and keyword.
The winds is too haunting
its dour, dreary and daunting
its voiceless song is wanting
for souls to listen it flaunting
Its whistling tunes that play
eerie melodies of dismay
oft sweet, oft an angered fray
they beckon me to come away
From my souls lone sojourn
where the ashes never burn
to reach out for what I yearn
learning to forget, to unlearn
The winds are too disturbing
and the chills are unnerving
so guilty and undeserving
of memories they're reserving
They are calm as moonlight
and a lonely souls delight
whispering sharp yet slight
with many a secret to confide
And I listen with attention rapt
at the words so true and apt
to souls that the winds trapped
that apprehensively adapt
The winds are so tantalizing
mystic, musical and surprising
tapering and quickly rising
hypnotic and channelizing
They bring what we forget
all our pain and our regret
words meant to remain unsaid
truths and the lies we dread
They are calling me desperately
the song turns a woeful plea
and I wish it would swallow me
with the whispers I long to flee
And be a secret of the breeze
the incessant mourns that freeze
the souls passing by the trees
the singer that no one sees
Setting my shivering soul aflame
my minds peace it can't reclaim
at times it whispers Your name
subtly, I whisper back the same.
They sang themes to my ears
Making sounds so crude-
Like that of a wailing trumpet,
Hovering around the room-
As their ravenous taste for blood do protrude.
In the shade of darkness
They sang in unison,
Songs so horrendous calling for a prickly taste of blood.
We gassed the room-
Chased some around with broom-
And closed the shutters as we give way to slumber.
Not long do they come marching forth
Blowing their bagpipes-like men ready for combat
Whispering words of which none I could decipher.
The songs continued through the night,
How I wished they sang lullaby to my ears
And not songs that do cast fears.
How I wished I could ask them-
What joy they do derive-
Piercing their needles into our flesh?
So solemn their songs butchered the air
To chase them; to my ears land a ting of slap
Waving hands in the air for a momentary tap.
They've got just days to live
As science do proclaim,
Tiny little creatures raving through the night,
The taste of blood keeps them at sight.
To survive they must pierce through human flesh,
Leaving swollen hills upon our skins.
This song they sang;
A song of intimidation-
Calling out to others to attack-
From beneath the chairs and those hiding among the clothes on the rack.
Every person holds within their a chest, a drum-
and it beats; the sound that keeps you up at night, the sound of your life throbbing,
pounding, thumping and pulsing as it creates beautiful music at all times of day.
You don't have to be a musician to hear it's rhythm, to appreciate it's flow as it
throbs your very soul, it is your fire's coal; it drives you to wherever you go,
your followed by a drum role.
Then why do you ignore it? The song that's played within us all? You hear the happy- melodies
and forsake the tragic songs. The songs of pain, the song the drum re-verbs-
when tears fall in plurals, is the song not as beautiful? Does it's crescendo appall?
Every person holds within their chest, a song with meaningful lyrics as it's played,
a fountain of a cavalcade, it becomes your very being; don't deny these tragic tales,
for their meaning still pails compared to that which links us all.
Just a gigantic six string orchestra and every soul's a part...every musical role is filled-
and every section's filled with hearts.
How can we pick one song over the other? How is it that easy to choose?
Every life is a story and a song held true, do not close your heart to my sad song-
fore it still beats for you.
Form:
The equanimity of the day reached beyond my solitary realm,
As if the tune of demise fathomed the doleful heart of mine;
Escaped from the autistic aftermath blamed by mordacious charm,
Healed beyond charade of some credulous bonds -
As if the tune of avow choired with the tune of demise,
Crowning an arena slewed by the tune of ravine;
Vehement boo outstayed by the tune of shush,
I composed the time with the music of lenience -
Odes so lined are tuned with feigned mash.
A ho-hum of hilarity hemmed in beyond my soulful eyes,
As if the malign sang by the oneirisms couched yearses;
Once paroled from the time, that seemed so dour, by the unforeseen lies,
Parroted beyond acme of agape love –
As if the song of idiom sinned by the song sung by malign,
Ceased a chronicle defied by the song of revival,
Eyeses esteemed bequeathed by the song of rash,
I composed the journey with the song of lenience –
Odes so lined are sung with bereft gush.
Topic: Tolerance
A little girl of ten went lost in the woods
A witch had beckoned her to come
The search would last for only three days
For it proved too hopeless for some
The legend tells that the little girl died
While trying to find her way home
Her spirit now dwells in this forest still lost
Cursed forever to roam
When the moon shines full wailing is heard
And a song with a mournful tune
She sings of the witch who stole her soul
By the light of the lonesome moon
The people of the village would lock their doors
And wait for her song to begin
For it's said she would wander the village at night
Checking doors and trying to get in
Her quest for peace still happens today
For her journey has gone on for years
She cries in the night for a place she can rest
While leaving a trail of tears
Granddaughter deleted by accident
as this song simulates something in my mind
something wrong, something goood.
something, that should have been gone.
as my thoughts crumble,
my walls fail
my sanity floats off.
i wonder how
why
when
i could jump and fall into air
and be safe into endless bliss
illl be singing my lungs out
with a beautiful sound
my feet will be keeping an impossible beat
that will drive anyone listening crazy
i dont feel like dying
but i feel like withering a way for a moment
into the walls
into the sky
into the ground.
i wish to be on top
im not worried how, but when.
and for what.
price.
as words, thoughts, ramblings,
spill out of my mouth like vomit
the song goes on.
my fingers move faster along the
l e t t e r s of my
concious
scary.
its all i have now.
ohp.
what happend.
the song stoped.
my minds back
Form: