Long Supernatural Poems
Long Supernatural Poems. Below are the most popular long Supernatural by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Supernatural poems by poem length and keyword.
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;
Alas, you may have noticed if
you’ve looked around the world these days,
you don’t see werewolves or zombies,
no vampires or mummies at play.
The whole world seems to have lost that
thade of mystery we once knew,
The creatures that stalked us of old
have become remarkably few.
There’s still a few out there, I know,
good old Dogman up in Michigan,
but for many of these creatures
their wild days have come to an end.
Now what’s the reason for this loss?
What has brought about this strange thing?
That’s easy enough to explain,
we humans are great at killing!
Yes, just as with normal animals,
we kill off what might be a threat,
something threaten might endanger out lives
is something that we can’t abet.
So just like predators and small pox
we saw the job was done,
heck, we published how to kill them
in all of our horror fiction!
Stakes, silver, garlic, and headshots,
we let all the world know how to win,
to the point out nights have become safe,
free of all the creatures of sin.
But if you still want to see them
then I have some good news for you,
you can see them all down at the
Endangerer Horror Species Zoo!
Now we got ghouls, goblins, wendigos,
your Demons, your banshees, and sprites,
we got all of the B-team monsters,
but most folks come for the big five.
I guess we should start with the werewolf,
each must roam in his own separate pen,
their spacious and lined in silver leaf,
we don’t want them getting out again.
The only ones left are the old ones,
so old they no longer transform,
they just stay werewolves all the time,
apparently this is the norm.
whatever the case, it’s good for us,
people can see them fur and all,
through a foot-thick one way mirror
that forms the enclosure front wall.
These eight foot beasts eat messily,
yet people gather when they feed,
yhey act appalled by the whole thing,
Yet they consistently watch the scene.
And when those lycans howl loud
it pieces right down to the soul,
ten times the fear of a normal wolf,
the spine tingles, and blood runs cold.
But people like feeling afraid
so long as they know they are safe,
sometimes we’ll drop a rabbit in there
so folks can watch the beast give chase.
Why do so few of these beast remain?
think silver bullets plus machine gun,
most of them now are heads on a wall,
we’re luck to have more than one...
CONTINUES IN PART II.
MESSAGES ( PT One )
A Poem by Debbie_Philly
THE MESSAGE
The room is black,
except for the faint glare of the TV in the background,
something to make me feel safe in some small way.
Hints of noise to drown out the silence--
such deafening silence, though not from within,
there's always noise within.
It's the kind of noise that keeps one awake
until early dawn.
No-- it's not the sound of the bathroom faucet running,
that would be a more pleasant sound--
(but what to do about that running.)
I slip into unconsciousness,
an unintentional state of suspended animation ,
very welcomed-- despite my objections.
Now the play begins.
The unfolding of the conscious mind.
What hides behind is much more revealing,
the actors are stacked and the story is unfolding.
Help in the telling comes from a unique source,
buried deep in the mind?
Maybe?
I believe it to be much more spiritual in nature,
supernatural in it's feel.
Lucid are the colors, real are the people.
They come from places unknown yet familiar.
Some I know by name,
some I love-- they are missed beyond words.
They come with cryptic messages,
with stories of treachery, lies and deceit ,
mapped out in vivid imagery of objects--
with meanings that I am not sure of.
I would dismiss these things if...
it were not for the repeated fashion
of how they were told.
An object here, a relic there,
I don't understand the meaning of it all, at first.
Are these apparitions conceptualized by own mind?
NO! I know these dear ones,
they love me, still-- even though
they no longer roam with the living.
There are too many signs to digest.
I wait for morning.
Sometimes I awake with a jolt,
(always remembering what I dreamed
in the haze of the pitch black night.)
I piece the puzzle together-- bit by bit,
I must decipher through the cobwebs
of the mind with some clarity; a daunting but amusing task.
I will heed these warnings,
warnings that come to me in dreams-- and beyond.
I Plan to embrace solidarity--
leave behind the flapping of malicious lips;
cling to the gifts bestowed upon me
through the handing off of the torch,
which once shined so brightly
in my loved ones soul.
I will stay awake--
be aware of my surroundings,
yet step over the boundaries
I have set for myself.
Meditate in solace
while letting my essence flow through my pen
onto white journal pages
that waits for me...
on my desk.
By: Deborah Mills-Kelly
...So why do we keep ghosts in here
when by the day many folks die?
Well, you see, it’s technology,
it tears them apart from the inside.
Since they are merely energy
all the fields from our gadgets and toys
scatter their essence all about,
it’s a fate free ghosts can’t avoid.
These ones here we were lucky to save,
and we need to find more all the time,
some go to heaven, others to hell,
each morn we know not what we’ll find!
Nearby is the mummy’s lair,
and it causes controversy,
some say that they shouldn’t be here,
that they are just dressed-up zombies.
Others claim it’s a magic thing,
which makes them a whole other clade,
I honestly don’t’ care that much,
the people come see them in spades.
Some were even Egyptian pharaohs,
though which, we’re not really sure,
professors have tried to talk to them,
to see what history they can learn.
Hollywood has rented them out
for their movies, and they pay so well,
sometimes they seem to try to speak,
though what they say, no one can tell.
Most people like to hear them moan,
like they did in the films of old,
did you know mummies really do that?
And if they catch you they’ll grab hold?
Sadly, they do not do much more.
We don’t see them often these days,
not many folks still mummify,
and the old ones have been grave-robbed,
in the wild they don’t survive.
Keeping them stocked up with linen
makes all the zookeeper’s tired,
but let’s down to the big show,
the place where we keep the vampires.
Now these guys are a unique case,
since they’re not critters, but our guests,
they’re sentient like human beings,
to lock them would be to oppress.
We build them big apartments here,
with a back-room facing the zoo,
we pay them to visit with folks,
and tell lots of stories to you.
Since vampires are immortal
so many great tales can they share,
want to know how Jesus Christ died?
Well our guy Julius was there!
They can leave any time of course,
some of them even punch the clock.
Wilhelm is a security guard,
walks the night shift like any cop.
Some thing, but won’t he feed on folks?
It hasn’t been that was for years,
since transfusions and blood banks came
there has been no reason to fear.
They no longer had to kill people,
staying alive didn’t mean murder,
they’d get their pints, go on their way,
no reason to bite folks or disturb...
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
(A lone voice whispers)
I always used to wonder
Where do Robins go to sleep
Then one dark night
Within a deep all-consuming lucid dream
At approximately one o'clock
A beautiful deity appeared out of the mist
Wearing a blue and white coat
Holding a Lily and a shining lantern
Across its shoulder, a golden trumpet and a branch from Paradise
On its golden belt
Hung a scepter and a silver scroll
As it strolled towards me
Within my illustrious sleeping streams
A strange palace of darkness
Where no birds
Flew or squawked
Its mysterious ever watchful eyes
Held me firmly transfixed
Like an ethereal heavenly hawk
Its bright white orbs
Swallowed me whole
As it whispered words
I'll remember
Until I'm old
Within the light of day,
We appear
Your beloved and even I
To watch over and visit you
To see and follow all that you do
When we, the blessed few
Waiting in the new spectacular bright white lights
In the glorious cathedrals of Atmos, shadowy arches
Cross over
When allowed a brief time
Before we are eventually
Reunited in a new form
To rejoice in hymn
Within your All Highs
Divine Church
Depending upon
The faith of your choice
To visit those we still
Love
To leave a sign or sing
A sonnet
Happily with echoes of our new voice as we too mourn
Then in here
At darkness
In
The Great In-Between
A place you all visit
Whenever you fall asleep
In deep dreams,
We always appear
For real spiritual shapeshifters
Like us
Never really sleep
We just transform into Robins
Through a supernatural technique
For sometimes they are merely vessels
We use
Just one of our everlasting souls keeps
So if you see one
And it sings
Looking straight at you
Remember this
It's just a beloved loved one
Maybe even me
Archangel Gabriel
Channelling
Through
And with that beautiful closing line
It disappeared quietly
Back into the receding winds that whined
Of the Hidden Divine
And when I awoke at eight,
I'm sure it met me
Sat on my old garden's wooden gate
My beautiful friend
Who loves to sit on the washing line
Whispering and singing
Hello
Sending shivers and tingling
Shooting
As I remember that dream
All the way
Up and down
My sinuous
spine
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Have you ever felt such a silken mist? A shower of rain that can cleanse the soul? Have you ever reached up to touch God on the face and He converted your heart instantly? Have you ever wondered what heaven was all about and was drawn to it more than ever now? Showers of love pour out from the heart of our Creator.
The Latter Rain is a supernatural rain. It is the outpouring of the love of God. The Latter Rain is a mist of affection, a last minute call upon the hearts of His divine creation. Yes, this rain shower, this shower of his affection, is just for you. It was planned this way since the beginning of time, and here we are standing side by side soaking up the wondrous presence of God. He is all around us as He blankets us with His mighty love.
Have you ever wanted to tell someone how much you love them and yet you couldn't find the words to speak? You always became tongue-tied over praying with others, but somehow your prayers come more easily? This is the outpouring of the mist of the essence of God. This is the Latter Rain.
Put your umbrellas away and dance through the rain. Dance as though you don't care who is watching. Let your face get moistened first and then your hair. Run through the streets professing your love for God. He is the maker of rain! He is the maker of your heart too! This is the Festival of the Latter Rain!
The Lord has chosen Kenya to be the first country to receive the outpouring of this rain, although the mist began several weeks ago all across this planet... It has been experienced by many of the end time's workers as jolts of Holy Spirit electricity that have come down from the throne room of God. It is in every city upon this planet. It will drench every person that reaches up to experience God during these latter days. Pray for the lost. Pray for those who do not care for the things of God. Perhaps the Latter Rain will be their last chance to receive the wonderful love of our Creator. Once the rapture of the bride of Christ has occurred, the Latter Rain will go away. It will be like a cool mist that has also evacuated the earth. A glorious fog that will dissipate.
Reach up to God and allow His Holy Presence to touch you and your loved ones. Experience the Latter Rains today! Ask Him to show you and He will!
Joel 2:23, Zechariah 10:1, James 5:7
Written by Gwendolen Rix
2-7-15
In the depths of my soul, a yearning did start,
A quest for a love, straight from the heart.
In this painful Earth, where shadows do loom,
I sought a connection, in the depths of my gloom.
A personal relationship with Christ I did seek,
To find solace and comfort when my spirit felt weak.
His love, supernatural, like a guiding light,
Illuminating my path through the darkest of night.
In the silence of prayer, I found sweet reprieve,
A bond with the Savior, in whom I believe.
His grace, like a river, so endlessly flows,
Washing away all my sorrows and woes.
Through trials and tribulations, His love did endure,
A love that's unending, steadfast, and pure.
In the midst of the storm, I felt His embrace,
A love so divine, a boundless, warm space.
Through the pages of scripture, His words came alive,
Guiding me through struggles, helping me to survive.
A personal relationship, a love so profound,
In Christ's sacred presence, my heart has been found.
So in this Painful Earth, where hardships may press,
I hold onto His love, it's my solace, my rest.
For in a personal relationship with Christ, I find,
A love that's eternal, forever intertwined.
A longing in the depths of my soul has already begun, .
Seeking love, straight from the heart.
In this dreary land, where shadows roam.
I sought connection, in the midst of my depression.
I sought a personal relationship with Christ, .
To find solace and comfort when my soul felt faint.
His love is like a supernatural guiding light.
I am lighting my way in the darkness of night.
I found sweet rest in the silence of prayer,
A relationship with a Savior, trusting in Him.
His grace flows endlessly like a river.
I wash away all my pain and suffering.
Through trial and tribulation it has been with His love,
Unconditional love, steadfast and pure.
In the midst of the storm, I felt his embrace, .
So much divine love, infinite space, warmth.
His words came alive through the pages of Scripture, .
He guides me through struggles, helps me survive.
A personal connection, such a deep love, .
My heart was found in the holy presence of Christ.
So in this troubled world, pushed by problems,
I hold on to His love, my comfort, my rest.
Because in a personal relationship with Christ, I see.
Love connected forever, forever.
Is it the truth that blinds us
If They say God is Love then how can Love blind us
How can lies remind us> minus trust
It takes years to build it and only seconds to destroy it
And as I let ideas fall out into thoughts, that are like drops of rubbing alcohol across the countertop
There is a smell of a hospital that reminds me of newborn life and then death flashes and i lose my sight
Its untrue that the definition of the first person that hesitates here, really converts over and spills positive enrgy into the rest of his life
Cause its like you stall and the lightening strikes
The tree falls down and your a second behind it
The dark barks that it hates the light
The light shines and its basically the truth that blinds you
The brillance of the the giantest star draws you like a bug to the lighjt
you get suck in because its your time to die
You cant change it, its evrymans destiny,\
thats why you must be in the postion that god places you
Work on earth to be done and men are lazy, they dont even want to be a family provider
i seen this i didnt understand it was truly overwhelming
Its like i knew the veiw you see is a little different
you say hes just goin through hard times are you any better
I was like damn i help the man by leading him to water
And he was like id rather sleep than feed my daughter
Thats why mommy goes to work and on the face of the earth men are dying
Little boys are born to suffer this woe of society
Woman are supernatural acts of kindness
But you bring out the dormant side and the one who gave life becomes a destroyer
No matter woman or man God is my employer
I work for virtually nothing but to see a hurt soul rejoice and i smile in satisfaction
Im like the truth never blinded me it set me free from the darkest whitest lies
That are actually darker the this side of what you think is compatible
couples marry and then they hate each before the first chapter of the story
and unfaithfulness derives out of the unsatisfaction of dissatisifaction
Then the children suffer from the lack of harmony in a family inviroment
NoW truth come take the blinds off the mouth that sugarcoaTS THE DECEIVING TONGUES
OF THOSE WHO DONT LIKE YOU
THERE LIKE ITS OKAY TO SIN BUT DONT LET THEIR LIPS COAX NOR ENTICE
The zenith is exactly crossing the horizon
The lies blind and basically the Truth is silent
#1
An awful odor arises through a quick developing pea soup fog.
Sounds from nearby crickets and frogs fade as light footsteps draw close,
then stop.
The fog gets thicker, thicker than before. The odor gets worse, more
concentrated. Your now ingesting an evil toxin.
Violently your shoved to the ground from behind, something pierces
your neck.
Evil memories, pictures of death swirl through your mind,
convulsing, as your body begins to turn.
Suddenly all goes still...
You come to, but not like you once were. Something feels different,
your vision is altered, you see only a crimson red. Motor functions
once average feel almost supernatural.
You died,
revived, rise from death.
You've become a dark death dealer.
A new hunger has emerged
Cattle.
You leap,
splurge,
submerge yourself in the
crimson substance,
riding the bloody waves.
uncontrollable,
relentless in your attacks.
Screams of horror
a mass slaughter.
Your alarm rings soft, minutes later it screams in terror....
I'm awake, I'm awake!!!!
You open the curtain
The sun.......
To be continued........
I’ve been haunting this old gothic
since nineteen eighty,
when I died from a brain tumor
at the age of sixty-three.
I cannot leave this antique home,
I am well-bound within,
must haunt it for one hundred years,
punishment for my sins.
See this is true purgatory,
how souls suffer for crimes,
not able to ascend upwards,
’till we’ve served out our time.
It is quite a strange sensation
to both be here and not,
in this world but not of it,
plays hell with the thoughts.
But it would be manageable,
’cause Heaven does await,
except that when I first got here
I made a dumb mistake.
Often when we first coalesce
we feel sorrow and pain,
death and intangibility
run havoc in our brain.
And in that supreme confusion
we can lash out in fear,
this is just what I did to all
people who came here.
Most of them ran off screaming,
what else can you expect?
But soon the word was spreading wife,
setting up what came next.
Tourists started to arrive here
to seek a glimpse of me,
and they always seem to get one
because, good folks, you see
that when a ghost touches the flesh
it gives us a hit of life,
drags us out of silent watching
into visible light.
That’s when the people can see us,
wispy shapes and glowing orbs,
the problem for us ghosties is
we’re always wanting more.
Like an addict of lifelong drunk,
the urge burns out-of-control,
a moment of what we have lost,
of what cold death has stole,
Feels better than the greatest high,
it beats out even sex,
instead of waiting here in peace,
we’re just left a jonsing wreck.
Maybe that’s part of our penance,
or maybe Satan’s sway,
all I know is I truly wish
I did not feel this way.
I wish people did not come here,
their presence tormenting,
we were once told death brought rest,
but I’ve felt no such thing.
Worse yet are the ghost-hunters
trying to record it,
a man’s afterlife should be more
than a way to turn profit.
If never did people come here
I would not have this strife,
I’d be at peace to think about
my family and wife.
I could focus on forever,
when I’d see them again,
not always be pulled back into
the lives of living men.
I’ve sixty-two more years of this
and it may cost me my mind,
I wish the living wouldn’t haunt me,
just let me do my time…