Short Weild Poems
Short Weild Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Weild by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Weild by length and keyword.
Water Warrior
The calm before the storm
remain shapeless
to assume any form
step into the strange
to get a good understanding
of the norm
why be symmetrically perfect
when you can be perfectly deformed
I've been a geek nerd freak
black sheep since I was born
I may not weild any weapons
but my tongue is like a double edge sword...
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Categories:
weild, art, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
A Cadavers Tale
they wept
they crept
but i cradled death unto its first steps and what i loved has fallen with me
to weild a blade are to weild this tale i come before my fears
darker than the sea and the only enmy i see is me
i surrender myself now i can live
death or life is what i choose to give
sever from fears and mortal tears
as you listen to a dead mans tale...
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Categories:
weild, adventure, art, death, devotion, imagination, love, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Cycles
cycles of pitiful emotions
do we know the minds of the hurt and lost
euphoric melancholy for some
a look into the minds of the so called brave
is it criminal or insanity
the broken arrow that wields the bondage of the meek
couragous is none
cross the borders of weekness
and weild your own sword
cut the cord that binds you
and follow none but thy own heart and soal
find your heirophant...
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Categories:
weild, visionary
Form:
I do not know?
Defeat Satan!
What power does the devil weild
To use God's armor and the shield?
Say no to all the devil's tempts
Or else might become plain wimps!
The power of the Holy Spirit
To have the Word; I want to hear it!
Always bending to the truth
Praise the Lord and keep your youth!
Keep the faith; have no doubt
Unless you want to be kicked about!
And in you heart be not a fool
Jesus is the only rule!...
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Categories:
weild, faithpower,
Form:
Couplet
Africa In the News
Africa In The News
Tanks hugging the
Unwilling ground,
Minute ants poke their treads.
As blackened trees still smoke
From the heavy rebel shelling.
A faceless child lays in a
Lake of blood,
Its toothless mother tries
To bite into a tree trunk
Just to get the last sap.
The filthy hands of other children
Weild machetes.
A colourless camera man incessantly clicks
For his modern world to see.
Paul Kasami...
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Categories:
weild, world,
Form:
Narrative