Long Underworld Poems
Long Underworld Poems. Below are the most popular long Underworld by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Underworld poems by poem length and keyword.
I loved you
I loved you, I loved a person, a human, a lady, a woman,
Loved a person, a human, a lady, a woman, only one.
True love
Love, love, oh lady, get a soul, no, not mine, lover the time
Loved lady get from my sky, underworld applauds; sky life.
True love
Loved you a one, a love, yours, your love, loved your woman
Need my woman, the love, come and follow me, always love
True love
Love, love, dear lady in Bushey, forgotten dream, your ladylikeness
Give me my woman, the soul of a woman's heart; loved you by a heart
True love
Love, give it to me, open the way to, I need this feeling, just a, just one
Take a heart, a love, a touch, a word, a feeling of life; I need your love; it’s kind
True love
Love loved life, the rose in my heart, touch a feeling inside, oh my love
Love you, still always loving you your heart, love from my heart; clear love
True love
I needed you, oh woman, loving memory of my heart; you loved by invisible arms
Accept a feeling, that comes from me, love your love, beating your heart in mine; get love
True love
I need this feeling. Just the love. Just the love. Only the love. Love. Come to me, get love
I need, I just need true love. Open a heart, accept a heart, give way to the love
True love
Emma, close my eye
Say Goodbye
I am walking far
Always far
True love
Bye
Bye with love
Bye by love
Vilmos
The Enipeus Valley
Listen as the lesser gods utter.
Beneath the veil of Nyx, entities.
Are dark spirits. Surrounded by
Erebus, the underworld just below,
Flames flicker.
Meanwhile, these hunters in the snow;
In trails of chaos, plead for Prometheus
protection, these demigods traffic where
Shadows call from Thanatos, who harvests
The souls of the dead, kept tormented souls
begged to be released.
Their eyes were in a glow.
Because of Epimetheus's foolish mistake.
And now the black Enipeas river below rages.
Yet dawn will rise again in Aether.
From the son of Erebus, the dark underworld.
Where the hunters were led.
Before being escorted into the ethereal
atmosphere into Hemera daylight to reach
The forest of Mount Olympus.
My silhouettes of loneliness.
They tremble, they shake, they flicker.
The air becomes denser, thicker
With the heavy emptiness that you left behind.
Now my most cherished solace is found
In the memories of days past.
As my eyes wander towards the vast horizon.
And slowly, oh so slowly sail my angered yearning for you on a cloudy balloon,
That soon floats peacefully towards the starry sky.
And,
The shadows wane a little in the darkness.
Then remembering your smile, makes
My yearning grow like a forest densley carpeted with autumn leaves.
My first breath of happiness!
The joy of remembering you,
Made me find my crumpled, wounded self,
Hidden within this ruined castle of despair
That myself had layered brick by brick around me.
My ego helpless, tries escaping.
Into light and out from the claws of the shadows.
Bravely clutching into every thinnest strand
Of hopes and dreams we wove together.
Desperately wanting to see you one last time.
You joyful, anguished pain of mine!
Fog, please be lifted,
and let me see what lays ahead.
Will these burdensome wrongdoings forgive myself?
Or no exception of redemption given,
Just like everyone else.
Not divine enough to be able to touch the ethereal bliss,
And yet, not sinful enough to be encased within the horrors of the underworld.
Thus, forgotten, once again,
rewinding, whining, crying,
Into this endless purgatory
Of the eternal circle of life and death.
Completely unreasonably complaining,
Because, you left...
©?Besa Dede
The ill woman in the wheelchair
was outspoken,elegant and fair,
and lived her life in exhuberant riches;
now,finds herself to the mercy of others,
her frazzled mind tries to recreate an image
of those adored faces she touched with grace!
Why have they left her in such a demeaning state,
when her weary and empty hands don't render and please?
The thoughtful and athetic soldier, so fair-haired,
writes his war memoirs in a small notebook
sent to him by his girl-friend who lives in Holboken;
he is the perennial prisoner of human error:
roaming in a labyrinth with a missing door,
struggling to free himself from the cold underworld...
The murderer,the robber,the rapist and the hood-lum
stand before the judge looking stern and tough,
scrutinizing the silent court-room:
he feels for the remorseful and repentant
as the jury slowly reads the verdict,
but the sentence is worse than death...
The new-born is abandoned rapidly
on a stranger's door-steps mercilessly,
on the front door a sign reads,"KEEP AWAY!";
the crying baby needs his tending mom
to put him to sleep with a sweet lullaby
and halt his relentless weeping with a hush...
The dazed and frayed kid, so down-low,
sits motionlessly in a filthy corner;
dependency on harmful substance
has made him a scavenger and a destitute;
and whoever dragged him into his addiction,
was a demon with a wrathful intention...
Some exceptional individuals wiil be raised
to immortal glory without a controversy,
many will be condemned to shame,to be mocked
and charged with an unforgivable heresy:
the powerful and rich will decide their fate:
to be either remembered or forsaken...
Black Angels search
As the world turns to grey
In soulless march
For their soulful prey
They congregate from places
Never heard of in many years
To wallow in their carnage
Spreading their demonic fears
Spirited from the underworld
The blackened depths of Hades
Diminishing the light above
Leaving earth in deathly shade
Skeletal marching soldiers
Empty of life and soul
Desperate to spread their black
As the brightness takes the toll
The worlds in need of saviour
A light to shine through soon
No longer can we rely
On our sun, or our moon
A journey must be made
To free us from this plight
A White Angel to be found
To turn this wrong to right
To Serbia heroes travel
Mileseva Monastery reached
As they stand in front of a fresco
An Angel beside Christ's feet
The mentioning of these words
Myrrh-bearers on Christs grave
The fresco starts to glow
Is this the light that saves
For the heroes standing there
Their bodies absorb the light
For in their hearts they know
They are the savours of our plight
Messengers now on their travel
Different journey's they partake
Don't fear the Reaper
For his light will re-awake
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss2.php
Like a pack of howling wolves in need of prey,
A wounded urban psyche strains its gnarled voice,
Motherless, fatherless, ice cold pavement waif,
Wee small hours plight
The rocks of his facade dispatched in ghost trains
for those ghoulish oil float gutters to imbibe,
Back street burden stray, schooled in fringe art fables,
Phantom kite chaser
Eerie street lights peer into an aimless soul,
Clouds of pea soup fog engulf his raw foot slink,
Firefly knotted angst or bilious grumble,
Trash can tummy fare
But still he ambles on, inner plagues in charge
as loafers from the underworld gawk and gape,
Pithy, a phased out coin for snow cap straggler,
dead of night orphan.
Date Poem Submitted : 19 th Of July 2020
Title : A Dark Underbelly
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Looking out past the cryptic crystal glass
into the busy rain-slick Street
I feel the sovereignty of this world
pass slowly like a shadow beneath my feet
I sit and watch the passing machine
the mechanics of the unknown design...
Humanity.
Every one a different shade size or Identity.
The world we know as a fragile shell
of what is real and surreal the world
we know is but a shadowed illusion
of the story of you…
Just below our senses behind our feelings
& our lives.
I sit and watch a feeling
of the underworld turn
in its quite dark orbit
in my inner eye.
He will pass through not knowing
the truth or observe the inner world & burn
the sovereignty of night I feel it just beyond,
just beyond my grasp,
my reasoning...
My intellectual reality is hidden
in a veil looking past the
crystal clear glass cryptic sky.
Into the world unknown
never shown watching the moving…
Mechanics of the machine known as humanity
viewing the sovereignty of none.
No one in the outer spheres turns,
yearning to wait for what is coming…
Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere
Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours
Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey
Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Styx
by Michael R. Burch
Black waters, deep and dark and still:
all men have passed this way, or will.
NOTE: According to ancient Greek mythology, the Styx was the River of Death. The dead would pay Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a fare to carry them across the Styx to their eternal destination. (Hades was not "hell" as it was improperly translated in the King James Bible. Hades had heavenly regions, such as the Elysian Fields and the Blessed Isles.) The fee was normally an obolus or danake. The Greeks would place the coins in the mouths of the dead, but over time the custom would become placing coins, usually pennies, on the eyes of the dead.
There would be the sisters of Jupiter,
Hera, Vesta, Ceres, of three there were.
Ceres was known the goddess of harvest.
The gods made sure they would treat her the best.
If Ceres was sad, the harvest will die.
Then the people will ask all the gods why?
Cute Proserpine, daughter of Ceres.
Seen by her uncle whilst picking berries.
Pluto was the god of the underworld.
Kidnapped her deep below kept her all furled.
Jupiter had sought Mercury for aid.
Smart son, a messenger god, thought a trade.
Proserpine ate whilst kept down below,
Eternal her stay be, scheme for Pluto,
He marries Proserpine, but he must,
Let her return for six months would be just.
Pluto, Ceres and Jupiter agreed,
Six months growth, six months none, was then decreed.
Date:06/11/2019
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