Short Martyrdom Poems

Short Martyrdom Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Martyrdom by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Martyrdom by length and keyword.


Premium Member Martyrdom of the Self

When you're full of sad
Just open up a vein
And empty it all into the toilet.
There is bliss in lightheadedness
Fading into perpetual
Slumbering ease.


Premium Member Saints 'Forbearance

Their love to God was
unyielding ,unswerving,
unshakeable.
They suffered martyrdom
for their unwavering, .unremitting
love ,devotion to God
They always forgave their
persecutor.
Their heart was full of  love to
their enemies.

Martyrdom

All I have left is survivor's guilt. 

And the knowledge that everyone thinks I gave up. 

There was so much temptation to destroy what is left of my non-functioning mind. 

So that I would cross that finish line as a pile of metal bones.

It Seems I Always Write These Words For You

It seems I always write these words for you
And when I do
You leave me
Are my verses the very toxins 
That cause us death?
I sip the final drops
And ask for martyrdom
Though I’m not sure what I’m dying for
I think you know better than I do
Form:

Falsely Alarmed

A simpleton mewls.
Streams of martyrdom
sate white porcelain.
Sins and suffering
hover like pumice.

Pruned fingertips
scratch metallic
drain passages
seeking escape.

Dread subsides
as bubbles
vanish and

whimpers
simply

laugh.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.


Sinning Is the Only Path To Martyrdom

It’s an antichristian theory and method
The way I give myself this plague	
Sickening solitary sustenance of my own sins
An urchin warm within my spirit like a fetus in a womb 
It’s Godless; I’m Godless
To glorify a madman
It’s habitual
To let the madman in

The Way.

You were the way.
You promised salvation 
You couldn't deliver.
Murder your faux martyrdom,
and cookie cutter family.
You hate me now because I couldn't fit,
But you didn't even try.
Compromise was never an option.
You were the way,
and you left me.
What am I to do now?

Ayatollahs

From out of the dark
ages of martyrdom you
bring the wrong message

from this religion
of Mohammad that speaks of
the love of Allah.

A loving Allah
would not kill his own people
just to control them.

Love is the control
from the hearts of all people
who long for freedom.
© Sue Mason  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Senryu

Love Ache

The pain of love,
Turnout someone stupid;
Drives people crazy.

There's no fairness in love.
You may favor the one,
And despise the other.

Deep love always betrayed.
So why should we devoted,
No more martyrdom.

He is the sun,
And you are the heart.
Many people's heart hurt you.

Martyrdom

Dark and mysterious
-- You are my greatest fear
Rapt and enshrouded
-- There's nothing I can hear

Penetrating intersection exuding me dry
Excruciating pain.. Oh! How I beg for peace..
Can you see my tears? They dried as I cry
My clock is fading so, can I at last be at ease?

Dovey Annie
Form: Couplet

Death

Death is a gate to another life
For the virtuous people
To get rid of earthly pain and sorrow
But for the sinners
It is the most undesirable thing.

Suicide is a way of losers
Since they lack patience
On the other hand
Martyrdom is a way of the braves
Since they prefer peace on earth
To anything else.

Bondage

Lose your mind
and I'll unwind
the constricting twine
that confines 
your wrist to your spine
and you're always mine
until we elegantly dine
on the golden bread and the crimson wine
for this pulls you across that sacred line
form martyrdom into the divine
but unless you lose your mind
your hands continue the suffering of their bind
Form: Monorhyme

Fatherhood Twice Over

Six children alive and sired
Fathering three and tired
The other three reject me
A traitor in me, they see

Married once; now again
My sanity to regain
At what cost to the kingdom
My rejection of martyrdom 

The natural man waxes and wanes
The spiritual man rises to higher planes
I asked for as many as the stars
To assuage my emotional scars
Form: Rhyme

Latex Condom Speaks

Sure, we all are in Gods kingdom,
Not in Satan's perverse Dukedom,
And should well clear steer of whoredom,
A big challenge to clinched stardom
Often igniting sex freedom;
Never Saint Stephen's Martyrdom...

Still for microbes a sold condom
Birth control measures not seldom
Infected spouse for The Syndrome
Better get out of a doldrum
To shops go for Latex condom.
Form: Rhyme

William Andleby

In his youth,
he was as Loyola,
a soldier, then he was converted
and became a priest.

He succored  and strengthen
the Catholic prisoners,
uplifting their faint bodies
with a new spirit of faith.

After 20 years’ labor,
he was arrested and condemned
for his priestly character,
for true faith

and led by his oppressors 
to martyrdom.
He was martyred
at York In 1597.
Form: Verse

The Great Mahatma

The saint of Sabarmati
Our great Mahatma Gandhi
Lived a life of simplicity
And marched towards Dandi
For India to attain freedom
He strived day and night
Even attained martyrdom
To keep our future bright
His Quit India movement
And call of ‘Do or Die’
Reminded Indians of their commitment
To the glorious days gone by
The great Mahatma passed away
Holding the entire nation in his sway
Form: Sonnet

Time can draw out like a blade

TIME:  It can slice your way from memory to martyrdom 
Moments thin so thin they cut away bone and tissues 
Cleave the seconds between secrets in between
The now and the hereafter, heaven’s eyes 
Glorified, it can draw out like... a blade 
Beneath fire, flesh, and broken ribs
Slide it deep, heart of the image 
Time like an electric prayer 
To deities on parade
Time's like a blade 
Drawn in blood 
And memory

Before the Battle- Acrostic WEREWOLVES

Whispers of the wind rise through my pink hued leaves.
Ethereal evening glow lights the skies.
Raiders of the dusk, hovering on standby.
Walking my way past, I take the dais.
Omnipresent generals in attention stand along with me biased.
Longing wreathes wait on the carved guardians of kingdom mean.
Voyage through the vast unknown is on cards
Either a march to victory or martyrdom I believe.
Salvo of battle cry reverberates unseen.
war
Form: Acrostic

A Question

How can I turn from love and live?
Like slippery fish sliding through the water,
the answer evades me, not quite ready
for slaughter. 
Maybe I should turn into a canary
whose singing is its culinary, 
or a ferocious lion in savannah
with no fear of hyena, or a
long-legged giraffe who behaves
like a chief of staff. 

I'm a member of animal kingdom
not a candidate for martyrdom.
I let the bat in my heart to 
fly away to safety.
Form: Rhyme

Leah Sharibu the Unsung Heroine

Intrepid damsel,
a heroine unsung.
A willing martyr
with courage
unrivalled.
Unransomed captive
with a ransom
infinite.
She gladly faces
death with eternity
in view.
Like her lover before her,
she chooses to be
a sacrificial lamb
to the slaughter.
Leah Sharibu,
the heroine unsung.
She that chooses to mortify
her passions
for timeless paradise.
Hardly daunted by
Kalashnikovs and
thunderous explosives,
she inherits a world
deemed abstract by
unfaithful adherents.

When Hope Is Lost

Seekers of gold and purple priests flatter the circular ways of man
the eyes of the fools have been pleased thus far

This life is a funny thing to live

Monarchs,Republics,Governments,Money,Sex,Murder,Masquerade,Martyrdom,
Happiness,Family,Enemy,God,Gods,Men,Women,Prejudice,War
BIRTH & DEATH

I'll get to know the wind instead of my fellow man
I'll search the unseen in hopes of discovering nobility

This life is the coldest one I've ever known

It's empty and time is moving

Imposed Dream

The burden of chasing an 
imposed dream
May thwart u fully or make u 
scream
U cannot do 
justice,whatever it be,
As though it is an apple on a 
mango-tree!
The heart will never follow 
that way...
Where it doesnot have a 
say...
It loves to enjoy the comfort 
of freedom..
Even if it leads to martyrdom!
So enslave your dreams like 
a master
& u will fulfil those really 
faster...
Never succumb to an 
imposed dream....
To avoid the fate of a leaf in 
the stream......!
Form: Rhyme

Bruxas

no matter what the good witches do
on the forest floor
the spells are over
and the firewood they burn
or maple leaves that kneaded
laugh they give
will never stop the procession of shadowy figures
they will never stop the piling up of sacks of bones,
the eternal dirt on the wall of the old house
the closed face of the lord of days
the black birds perched on the posts:
a man only finds remedy for his martyrdom
on these strange roads
at the entrance of the bowels
to be alone.

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