Short Styx Poems
Short Styx Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Styx by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Styx by length and keyword.
Tonight, the
Elevator doors
Open and close,
Satan believes
Down is up and
Up is down
We all fall
Fall deep
Unto the
River Styx
unchained from death’s grip
getting away from a dark pit
rowing across the river Styx
back to the world of the living
freed at last, born once again.
blood-red skies thunder
a dark boat hauntingly moves
across flaming seas.
27/03/2023
Hell Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Oh waiter
at the river styx,
striking down the might and meek.
Thou scythe
is camped outside my door;
waiting...
as with us all.
To take the good ahead of schedule.
Form:
“Styx and Stones”
bad entities exist here
we’ve crossed Styx
we learn we’ve reached sure
when stones are thrown
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Young branches of
The sycamore tree,
Brushes the pastel blue sky
Then, I released these magic stones into
The hands of the sky, and
Witness the ripple reflection of
The ancient River Styx
Alone on the river Styx
untouchable by experience
in reach of warm safety
a reward constantly carroting
the current icy morrow
my solo journey
exciting lack
grey and without embrace
without redemption
without nature
away from god
Forming a crossroad
Between the living
And the dead
Down this river
To the world of evil
Darkness appears
Ravens flying near
The reaper comes fourth
And take souls from the north
Putting them in pain
Making them go insane
Feasting upon there souls
Making there hearts, turn to coal
This is where the dead roam
And call there place home
Form:
Hallow’s Eve, when spirits return
And on Styx’s shores, a darkness churns
Lost souls vanish to the veil
Lamenting cries rise up from Hell
Omen hangs high in Stygian sky
Where witches watch with a wicked eye
Eldritch winds whisper a woeful tale
Echoes of death ride on the gale
Night-creatures creep with dreadful bale
The grief of mortals is a passing horror.
We gods, who live forever, saw far more.
Conceived in burning chaos were we few;
Beyond the pain of mortals what we knew.
And I, who suffered more than mortals may,
Conceived this fortress to all fears allay.
Let any call for comfort, they can come:
My peace shall render every torment numb.
My peace protects whoever poison pricks.
These things I swore upon the river Styx.
Below indigenous herds of species’
Soft stampeded tramplings,
Profound caves water rivers underground.
Roots grow their nether forests
Down to a shadow fathom depth of earth.
Tendrils leaf out only tuber leaves of dirt.
Flooded backs of charcoal catacombs
Snake like water moccasins through
Aquifers to rise disguised as springs and wells.
Here there is a bargeman who
For pennies holding eyelids down
Will help you to forget
Vaguely chambered
Urges of the heart.
In the shadows of the Montezuma mountains there lies an ethereal river
Ancient Greeks knew of it, and wrote legends, many which are lost.
She is the River Styx. Where your soul travels beyond flesh death.
It is a silent river; no words are exchanged. There is a somber feeling.
A hushed atmosphere as boats carry away newly returned souls.
An empath might hear the whisper of the paddles gliding in the water.
Gaia listens as the water is dipped, and souls return to the underworld.