Love is cruel, a heartless game
A punishment for minds unwell, a flame
That burns with fervor, yet brings despair
A bittersweet reminder of love's cruel snare
It taunts and teases, a merciless delight
A rollercoaster of emotions, day and night
It lifts us high, only to let us fall
A never-ending cycle, beyond recall
Love is cruel, a test of will
A trial by fire, that only the strongest still
Can endure the pain, the heartache and woe
And emerge scarred, yet wiser, with a heart that glows
But still we seek it, this cruel mistress true
For in her arms, we find a love anew
A love that's fierce, yet fleeting as the wind
A love that's cruel, yet oh, so hard to leave behind
So let us embrace this cruel love we share
And cherish every moment, though it's hard to bear
For in its depths, we'll find a strange, perverse peace
A love that's cruel, yet forever will release.
In the midst of life's flames,
Your inner strength will be forged.
The burning comes, a trial by fire,
Oh brave heart, don't let the flames fade.
For in the ashes, a phoenix lies,
Waiting to rise, with wings to the skies.
From the very flames that once brought pain.
Comes transformation, and a new reign.
So let the fire refine and purify,
Let it burn away the fears that made you cry,
For in the heart of the inferno's
Lies the power to rise and shine with new light.
You will rise, like phoenix born,
From the ashes, reborn, and renewed.
To soar on wings, with grace and poise,
A symbol of hope, in the darkest of joys.
There are times that can test and can try a man's soul
When his mettle's subjected to hot burning coals
And his heart's in his throat and his tongue's all a-tremble
A time to speak truth, not to lie or dissemble
When the spotlight is aiming its ray gun at you
Darts and daggers blazing and blasting on through
Your protective armor so flimsy and weak
Flames howl at you and your answers that reek ...
Now the fires barely flicker, their embers worn down
The arena is spent; it's the dark side of town
You've been tested and tried and found sorely lacking
Duplicity's unmasking ~ jackals' gallery a-clacking
A faith that overcomes all things
what price is that faith’s value?
indeed a faith that moves mountains
such a prize thus a golden brew
If you had a pot full of glistening gold
for the trials of life coming your way
it simply would only grow all the less
pulling your heart whatever you say
Faith is your real requirement
for it will prosper as it grows
which comes by facing afflictions
head on not flinching so it goes
Established being set right in it’s place
so faith increases through much afflictions
giving a power to move on in strength
as it meets hardships despite restrictions
So treasure your faith more and more
even gold doesn’t come near compare
so point your faith on God alone
abiding in Him your constant prayer
(‘Gold does not increase through trial by fire, it grows less, but faith is established and multiplied by the afflictions it meets with’ . - Matthew Henry (1662-1714))
King Nebuchadnezzar ordered people to worship a statue that was ninety feet high.
But when three good men refused to worship it, the king condemned them to die.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to worship an idol even though the punishment was stern.
The king had them thrown into a furnace but Jehovah God sent an angel and they didn't burn.
Those three men said that they would only worship The Lord.
And being protected from a fiery death was their reward.
Nebuchadnezzar was amazed when they weren't consumed by the fire.
Those three good men survived a fate that would have usually been dire.
Jehovah proved himself to be the true God who has might.
He protected his three loyal servants for doing what was right.
False Gild
False gild now flakes on warping frame
gold faded by erosion’s truth
cold haven of a dusty god
unable to protect its youth.
Twisted smiles of fallen idols
grin beneath protective domes
succumbing to a god that failed
without recourse to “milling stones”
False gild now flakes on warping frame
a sanctuary once denied
cannot remain a holy place
protected by usurpers lies.
False gild that could not stand the test
bought without trial by fire
unable to weather sinful
unpolished ugly desire.
John G. Lawless
5/7/2016
Trial by fire
Heart is game, showing us red
Tunnel visioned aim
Slipping bullets, jumping trains
Can't be stopped unless we're dead
As I set upon my stoop today,
a nervous smug permeated.
Child like joy coming my way,
excited what fate has slated.
I believe in a future that's bright,
whether it be pleasant or it's shot.
I'll scrap for it. I'll last the fight,
no matter what is wrought.
Glad I am that I've possessed,
this radical constitution.
Trial by fire always best.
Burning dross, strength's infusion.
Maybe one day in future unseen,
I'll learn to calm, how to relax.
For now I'm a "Danny Greene",
Taxing the max to life's climax.
I know today a thing or two,
conscious what I am made of.
Knock me down. Scar me true.
I'll just stand and rise above.
Mental, spiritual, physical,
deftness embedded in me.
Musical, lyrical, empirical.
Chain me. I'll always be free.
Now I cheer, even hold dear,
Those things testing mettle.
So burn me flame, I have no fear,
of things I'll have to settle.
-Angel Fatale-
I have no role model,
No hero to worship.
But if I did, I'd never leave their side.
I would want to grow up to be just like him.
Or her.
And in this worship,
I would come to rely on the hero to save the day.
Such that when the time came for me to rise,
I would quiver and shrink away.
I have no role model,
No hero to worship.
I will grow,
Independent,
And I will learn my strengths.
My weaknesses though present,
Will be hidden beneath.
Although I may not succeed on first try,
I still believe in trial by fire.
A thunder-clap, the storms approach
Each eerie revelation
No hope for man
Nor none for 'roach
A prophetic annihilation
The World awaits, a harrowed end
Apocalyptic measures
Mans soul, it hangs
Tentative, it bends
Ensnared, in its false treasures
The evening veil of darkness
Accomplice, to the Moon
Covers up its naked secret
A portent clear
A harbinger of doom
His end, long in the making
A teardrop in the Ocean
Damned eternal
He waits there, shaking
Unsaved, in his devotion
Arch-Angels, weep eternal
Both wings and hands are tied
The Wind it cuts
The Rain can never
Wash clear Infernal ties
Faith, leaves you , at the Alter
Tattooed, in your own shame
In Times of War
In Trial by Fire
Death, calls you by your name
A Tribute to Edgar Allen Poe...
Wild with unbounded energy tonight,
I eschew my med's; but I soon then hear
the frightful voices trumpet in my ear;
they haunt me into the stillness of night
as I transform into a monstrous sight
(a version of myself which I most fear,
and dread, as mania befalls me). Dear
God! why am I accursed with this dire plight!?
Life with bipolar disorder feels tragic,—
it's like a trial by fire, a hard test:
sometimes this dark disease makes me frantic
with madness, rapture, and profound unrest
so vile that I become full-blown manic;
then I am overwhelmed, and feel unblest!
A thunder-clap, the storms approach, an eerie revelation
No hope for man, nor none for 'roach
A prophetic annihilation
The World awaits a gruesome end, apocalyptic measures
Mans soul it hangs, tentative, it bends
Ensnared in its false treasures
The evening veil of darkness, accomplice to the Moon
Covers up its Naked Secrets, a portent clear
A harbinger of doom
His end, long in the making, a teardrop in the Ocean
Damned eternal, he waits there, shaking
Unsaved by his devotion
Arch-Angels weep eternal, both wings and hands are tied
The wind it cuts, the rains will never
Wash clean Infernal Ties
Faith leaves you at the alter, tattooed in your own shame
At Times of War, in Trial by Fire
Death calls you by your name
A tribute to Edgar Allen Poe
I must apologize for the events that will transpire
When simply using my words is a trial by fire
With only seconds to act, I acted in haste
And with every second gone, several nights have gone to waste
I’m being forced to improve and I’m only falling back
For courage and resistance are among others I lack
Remaining to fight will injure us two
I’m not a murderer; I don’t want to hurt you
Completely necessary evil for the greater good?
Pave my road to Hell, as my intentions should
Lead me on a path I know so well.
Branch to the future or march on towards Hell.
I offer condolences to soothe the wound
Only asking you to stay tuned.
As I flounder and thrash towards the light
I can only hope that I am indeed right.
Of all your constant transgressions, I tire.
Yes, you're pushing it down to the wire.
I even sent you My Son
yet His work stays undone.
Must I resort to one last trial by fire?!
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.