Long Unbind Poems
Long Unbind Poems. Below are the most popular long Unbind by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unbind poems by poem length and keyword.
I write not as a dreamer alone—
but as one who has peered
through the quiet galaxies
of the cell.
There—
where ribosomes turn
like patient mills,
and strands of code
coil and uncoil
with ancient precision—
we have begun
to send our smallest messengers.
Not soldiers of iron,
not crude intrusions,
but particles
measured in billionths of a meter—
engineered whispers
moving through the blood’s red rivers.
They arrive
knowing your language.
Programmed
to the grammar of your genes,
to the private dialect
of your cells—
a medicine written
for one body alone.
They do not wander.
They listen.
They find the misfolded protein,
the silent tumor beginning its theft,
the artery narrowing
like a road forgotten by the sun.
Then—
with mathematics gentler than surgery—
they repair,
unbind,
dissolve the error.
And when the work is finished,
they sleep.
Their code instructs silence—
no empire,
no conquest,
no lingering hand.
Only a correction
in the long manuscript
of the body.
Imagine it—
a future where illness
is met not with blunt storms of chemicals
but with quiet librarians
walking the corridors of flesh,
returning misplaced pages
to their rightful place.
This is the promise
hidden in the smallest scale:
that healing
may one day arrive
not with thunder—
but with a whisper
too small to see,
yet wise enough
to leave the body
whole.
They taught us young, the fine art of concealment,
Threads of ideals tightly woven, hard to unbind.
What is perfection? What is normal?
These are the whispers we inherit, soaked in like breath
From mothers, fathers, teachers, friends,
We’re shaped, folded, pressed to fit the mould,
To wear the mask and play the part,
To “make it,” they say.
But what is this making we strive toward?
A shallow milestone, a wage dictated by others' rules?
Does it fill the soul, this endless climb
To the pedestal society built for the obedient?
The façade of perfection crumbles upon touch,
Yet we chase, so desperate to measure up,
Though we know, deep down,
The mould was never made for us.
Eyes—they are intricate, windows to the soul,
Yet they alone can do nothing, bound as they are
To a restless mind, an untamed spirit.
For the heart, wild and unruled, pulls in another direction,
Craving something true, something real.
The heart sways, despite the eyes, despite the mind,
Yearning for connection, raw and sincere,
Unmoved by the weight of societal disguise.
We are told: the perfect waist, the flawless skin,
An endless checklist of “enough”
A body to fit the bill, a face that pleases,
Yet none of it matters,
All illusions crafted to drain us dry,
Leading us further down a thorny path,
Where every step bleeds,
And at the end, we ask—was it worth it?
Why try to contort into shapes never ours to hold?
Why chase the mask when the heart only wants truth?
Why not let the beast within bloom,
Like the beauty in a tale of a rose and a spell?
Let the path be yours, unmarked by another’s hand,
And see the wonders it holds, raw and wild.
Break free, let the mask fall,
Let the shackles clatter at your feet.
Let the eyes see the world as it is,
Cruel and bright, terrible and beautiful,
A race not meant to be run, but to be savoured.
Be free, like a butterfly loosed from the chrysalis,
Not perfect, not ordinary—just real.
Beyond ego's orbit, we set our sights,
On an expedition where compassion ignites.
Away from selfish dreams, we'll choose to see,
The world's shared sorrows, our true destiny.
In this cosmic voyage, we'll leave behind,
The narrow confines of a selfish mind.
To remember the pain, the world's cries,
And reach for the stars with empathetic eyes.
For in the vast expanse of space so wide,
We'll find a perspective, hearts open wide.
To mend the world's wounds, we'll find our way,
On an expedition that cares, come what may.
An expedition to lands burdened by strife,
Where hunger persists and claims innocent life.
In the quest for solutions, we'll firmly stand,
To nurture education across each land.
Through empathy's lens, we'll bridge the divide,
In the face of despair, we won't step aside.
War's harsh grip, we aim to unbind,
A mission of love to heal humankind.
With hearts full of hope, we'll dare to heed,
The change these poor countries so desperately need.
An expedition for a brighter tomorrow we'll strive,
For a world where all souls can truly thrive.
They think that, when you hear the gospel, you start working, creating by your own strength a thankful heart which says, ''I believe.'' That is what they think true faith is—Martin Luther
Your faith is not blind
Change is what you’ll find
Submit
now, your troubled mind
Genuine and kind
Admit
all bad acts, unbind
Re-born! A refined
flame lit
God ‘s soldier commit
Good works, Jesuit
Faith is
everywhere, we sit
on a chair made fit
With this
a carpenter’s wit
Blind faith like hell's pit
Amiss
Holy Spirit bliss
The humble He gifts
Mankind
righteousness is its
divinity’s kiss
Remind
us of His promise
Paradise justice
designed
DON'T LEAVE ME WITH UNINVITED TOMORROWS.
DON'T LET ME FORGET THE MAGICAL YESTERDAYS.
LET ME VISIT YOU NIGHTLY.
SHROUD ME IN MY DREAMS.
INSPIRE ME FROM WITHIN.
HELP ME TO MELT THE ICE THAT HAS FORMED.
HELP ME TO WARM THE CRATERS OF MY HEART.
HELP ME KNOCK DOWN THE STONE WALLS.
HELP ME TO UNBIND ME OF MY INNER CHAINS.
BE MY KNIGHT.
BE MY WIZARD.
BE MY MAGIC.
BE THE ONE WHO CAN HOLD THE KEY.
TAKE MY HAND.
LEAD ME TO THE HIGHEST PEAK.
SHOW ME HOW TO SOAR ONCE AGAIN.
CARESS ME GENTLY.
KISS MY LIPS.
DELIGHT ME.
HELP ME FEEL AGAIN.
DON'T LEAVE ME WITH UNINVITED TOMORROWS.
DON'T LET ME FORGET THE MAGICAL YESTERDAYS.
LET ME VISIT YOU NIGHTLY.
SHROUD ME IN MY DREAMS.
INSPIRE ME FROM WITHIN.
BE MY KNIGHT.
BE MY WIZARD.
BE MY MAGIC.
BE THE ONE WHO CAN HOLD THE KEY.
In shadows deep, where truth is lost/
I stand falsely accused, innocence lost/
Wrongfully convicted, they tore me from God/
My soul too pure for Heaven's facade/
Through realms of darkness/
I descended the Qliphoth's depths where light pretends/
Barriers break, and chains unbind/
A journey forged, a fate refined/
I face trials, a spirit bold/
In the shadows, a heart of gold/
No earthly ties, no mortal claim/
Descending through the voids of dark flames/
With each step taken, power found/
The weight of lies, no longer bound/
From a path of light forged in darkness/
The first to rise, an endless span/
A God is born in cosmic space/
Through strength and willpower, renewed hope/
The journey of the falsely accused/
A faithless man or woman is blind as they are unable to see
This the worst possible bind when your own soul is not free
Nor do they even care or ever think any of this is relevant
So sad that so many are unaware that our Savior was sent
Jesus numbered them all as fools those of a hardened heart
Following man made up rules while diminishing God's Part
These who can see nothing so unwilling to give Jesus Praise
Oh what judgment will bring as you live the last of His days
But this blame is certainly shared with the one at your side
As with evil you've been paired in so knowing of your pride
He has snatched you so far away we are not able to unbind
I sit here and pray that the Lord Himself will come and find
Had you of only known and even but once given Him Praise
Some appreciation shown among all your other wicked ways
See, your time is going to come when it will then be too late
To such evil I won't succumb the real me being in what I state
John 8:47
He that is of God heareth God's words:
ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God.
Time drips drops of sorrow like engine oil.
It coats the gears of yesterday's labor,
keeping grinding on forward in a regular way,
slip, slip sliding away.
Tears unbind the spindle of memory’s wheel.
Dreams, frozen in candle wax, melt in the sun’s heat,
causing memories to slink and drip,
slip, slip sliding away.
Hands clutch hard, trying to hold on
to what we fought for, and believed.
But hands wet with sweat
lose their grip, falter in the struggle,
slip, slip sliding away.
The scent of love stops us from letting go,
when we bask in its inner comfortable glow.
But a looser chain makes love feel fresh again,
slip, slip sliding away.
The soul can be numbed by slow decay,
yielding ground and letting beliefs drift.
But pushing back hard can reverse the fall,
slip, slip sliding away.
Truth doesn’t cling or shout.
It waits patiently on the sidelines.
It’s often misjudges when viewed straight on,
so it bends, curves, and evades. We go right past it,
slip, slip sliding away.
What remains when we try to
grasp and hold on to everything at once,
is a lottery we can't control, risking the precious,
slip, slip sliding away.
When a purpose is set, and we draw near,
we often lose traction, and step backwards.
The nearer you get to your destination, the more you’re
slip, slip sliding away.
Wake up and start it over again
The scratching I can do with my pen.
The task always seems to be undone.
There remain so many miles to run.
I have the stone to push up the hill
I have lands that wait for the till.
Every day tasks start over again
When we wake up and then
We see where we are
And we try to go far.
But it’s back at the bottom of the mountain
It’s back to searching for a fountain.
With waters we can’t know, that taste of highest gold.
Waters that burn golden yellow, waters that are always cold.
Fill up your cup, have a drink with me.
The waters are no longer stopped up. Even if I might Sisyphus be.
It’s my stone and it’s easy for me to push.
Once you’re used to it, the job seems cush.
It starts over again when I wake up with my pen.
My hand was empty when I fell asleep, so what’s this then?
As soon as the cold bold lights start streaming in
Waking me up, making my morning begin.
I find that I couldn’t stop my mind
Even sleeping there are things to unbind.
And that’s why I write as I write
From morning til noon, til deep in the night.
I wake up and it starts over again.
I need to hear the scratching of my pen.
As a teenager, I was so lean and lanky.
My mother worried over my physical stature.
She believed that all the nutrients in my diet,
were rapaciously devoured by my hair.
From childhood onwards, I had long, thick hair
that cascaded down my back like a jumping cataract.
Each time I got ready for school in my uniform,
my mom had trouble plaiting it into two pigtails.
After school, it took much of my time to tease apart the strands,
release and unbind, what my mom had so neatly done.
She wanted to cut my hair short, I too agreed
as it took so long for me to have my hair dried after every bath.
(It was a time when we had not even heard of hair dryers!)
When I conveyed my mom’s decision to my friends,
they said in unison- “Your long hair is your sole attraction,
we are all jealous of you for it. If you cut it
you’ll be like a sheep after its fleece is sheared,
Oh, so ugly”
My hair was straight like stick, black and glossy without even a curve.
I was so upset about it as curly hair was what everyone preferred,
in a village without the ‘refinement’ and sophistications of urban life.
After every long journey, I had to spend hours clearing the tangles of my hair.
When I entered college, my hair became my distinguishing mark.
All referred to me as ‘the girl with long hair’ and it became my identity.
Girls from cities had begun frequenting parlours for straightening their hair
I was happy I had natural straight hair without recourse to artificial means
Thus, for the first time, I began feeling proud of my hair.
I spent hours before the mirror, admiring my hair and tying it in styles, varied.
Also started wearing it with my chin up and flaunting it unabashedly.
When I joined college as a lecturer, I could hear exclamations of ‘wow’
from my students, whenever I turned to the black board to write something,
and my silly feminine heart fluttered in vanity like a peacock.
Before long, silver threads began to peek here and there.
When they came in one and two, I plucked them away.
But Time, like a mischievous imp began to play nasty games.
In a couple of years, I was all grey and now I thrive on hair dye.
Indeed, a messy job! To make things easy I have cut my hair short.
Sad, my mother is not there to see me in short hair!