Martyrs Poems - Poems about Martyrs

Imprints

A martyr poltergeist left an elegy
Not much eulogizing the choice of a strategy.
Its undead friends never met their ends, they cannot be
The least affected by all this atrocity.

A cry of help was muffled
In the ruins of the rubble
And the media hollers, calling it a mere scuffle
What a caricature of the civil who suffer!

People leave fingerprints

The Survivors

Forever gone, forever we understand
The pain lingers on, stronger beyond
The thud of agony and the memory
Captures the groans of a desperate cry
Laid in a little rest with friends and family 
to be the martyrs reunited in eternity,
As in the heart when life is over
Time closes our eyes to this world of terror.

Grief shows the path

You Have Heroes' Blood - added to

Hey there little one
Toddling ‘round your parents’ feet
Not yet knowing who you are
A whole wide world to meet

You have Nobility -
Heroes’ blood pumps in your heart
Martyrs, warriors and pioneers 
Are part of who you are

Both your grandfathers
Served honorably in the military
Tom was in the Marine Corps
I was a UN Peacekeeper in the Army

Fred Halliday served,
Himself

Martyrs

Martyrs are saints
Consequential
Reborn heroes.

The Rape of Lebanon

The month of August brings with it memories of the Beirut blast. Beirut is once again under attack. I wrote this poem as a tribute. 

The Rape of Lebanon

My darling, Lebanon, do not be fooled
What they feel for you is lust and not love
You're scented cedars and your hills, bejeweled
make you a piece of heaven

Saints and Martyrs

Everyone wants a ticket to Heaven 

Only the penitent knows their fate

Nobody barters with Saints and Martyrs

Because the sacrifice is too great

IN THE REMEMBRANCE OF THE MARTYRS

They sung for the Lord in the synagogues
Raising mixed feelings to the music analysts
Voices mattered less, the message more precious
Preached his word in the land
The sacrifices they made to secure life!
In moments of trial, they testified of his goodness
Seeking his comfort when times were darker
Faith led their ways, hope guided their motives;
God was good in

Martyrs and Clowns

What is forgotten
if time is a bluff

What is forsaken
if memory can rust

Where is the drama
the stage ill disposed

Where is tomorrow
today undisclosed

When were you certain
that certain you’re not

When did the hands
stop advancing your clock

How many seasons
must come and then go

How many reasons
to plant and not sow

Why search for glory
in legends unfound

Why only answered
—by martyrs and clowns

(Dreamsleep:

Martyrs and Idiots

Martyrs die 
for clear faith ...
that is noble belief
Idiots die 
for blind   ignorance,
that is ignoble stupidity....

Martyrs

They kicked the chair, beneath my feet.
The rope it stretched and faced defeat.
As I fall, now I fall to breathe.
I lived a life with liars and thieves.

I fall now there, right on my knees.
The other side is sunny, light breeze.
They all seem to love me, green trees,
as they all live to follow just me.

I see

Mayfly Martyrs

Such an ethereal beauty.
Petite in size but large on life.
One would not expect its duty
is solely for procreation.
Yes, just this one, and nothing more,
certainty is its life’s station.
Swarming thick as oozing slurries,
males hover above clear water.
Intrigued, the young female hurries.

Emerging the gray mass, nightmarish,
lays her eggs, then crumples lifeless.
The males sail to land and perish.

Martyrs of Hell

flames crossing bound’ries
intense freedom rains terror
stirring living hell

the outback’s furnace
drying up tears — bottled up
water thirsts for life

warm hands wait for the ejection of koalas, kangaroos and kin. standing guard with cool plastic ready to pour forth mercy into parched throats - forest dwellers seek human kindness, no longer threatened by strangers, welcoming their treasured

Martyrs

Their blood was spilled
Your church was built
But to them it never occurred
To deny the Word
Of Truth that set them free
Assuming of Heaven to be.
Even joyful singing was heard
You, their Lord, they preferred
Their church buildings burned
But not one turned
They were spurned
For what they said,
"Jesus is raised from the dead".
Yet, hope through them was bred
Hope that there

Foxe's Book of Martyrs 1999

FOXE’S BOOK OF MARTYRS--CHAPTER 1999

Near Denver, Colorado, on another day at school,
And then in walked the gunmen and they took on the rule.
The students ran in panic as shots rang through the throngs,
And then one asked the students, “Who here to Christ belongs?”
A brave girl stood for Jesus and gave her life that day
And showed

Little Martyrs

the colors swirl, blend in a furious vortex.
stripped of his royal robe, thrown
into a desiccated cistern,

Israel would fill that well
with his tears.

Years later in Ramah,
his mother —
Rachel would weep.

Why O Why
the sacrifice?

one child breathes —
to Egypt they would flee.

the little martyrs keep watch
as the Bethlehem babe matures.

amazed —
witnesses to the greatest
sacrifice that saved them from

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