Horizon bound!
In sight of Nevermind's abode...
A brush of lilies here-there trace
This breathless, stony road.
By the creaky passing of
Yon rigid, horse-drawn hearse,
It pains to see such lively ones
So sorely lacking mirth.
All time has passed!
Comes judgement day.
Seek not to listen as He
Straddles His commode;
Try not to hear it as His bowels
Let loose their slick, wet load.
Focus instead upon His lunatic decree.
Upon His gavel, trailing dreams, He
Wields with such uncanny glee...
Weep...such sweet remorse...
Pure, pristine sin you've yet to see.
A villain is a tireless workhorse,
Endlessly plotting through the night,
With schemes that twist and turn, of course,
Each detail honed to sheer delight.
His intellect stands sharp and rare,
A mastermind in every glance,
Unraveling minds with subtle care—
A psychological elegant dance.
He wields his gifts with cunning grace,
Turning chaos into high art,
Building empires none can erase,
Yet always playing the shadowed part.
If only he would pivot toward the light,
Channel that brilliance for the good,
Imagine worlds both fair and bright—
Where villains host the neighborhood.
They might devise the perfect plan
For flawless gardens, neat and grand,
Or orchestrate a traffic jam
That somehow leads to helping hands.
No grand explosions, just quiet wins,
A world where heroes rest at ease,
And every scheme at last begins
With kindness wrapped in mysteries.
What wonders then would greet the day,
When even darkness learns to play.
Beyond the Curtains of Night, there is No Time in the Ether
so, I pay Homage and take Solace to the Great Master Weaver
Wings Wide like Faravahar, I was Born Bright
Into the Sky, Head High, Full Fravashi Like
turn off the Lights watch the Razzle and Dazzle
To Become, I Ascend Celestial Tabernacles
Star Bound I'm a Star Djedi
Chasing Stars like Israelites,
Chasing Treasures like Ghost Ships wrought by Argonauts
Pulling Swords, I'm a Rolling Stone, Forging Legends like Camelot
Think Not! My Shield Wields Fire like Pendragon
like 7 Rishi Stars, I Journey the Havens like Sagan
it's Astronomical, my Zin is so Uru it's Prophetic
I Part Dross like Moses,
Plant Seeds, within a Fleeting Breeze life is just Star Dust
To Fly I Trust, To Live I Must
tuned in to the High Cypher my mind is Electrified
So Electric like Mozart with the Pen Of Life
Unto The Sun, yes my heart still burns like Saffron
Sway Bright like Luther on the Front Foot,
On The High Road
I Flame Forth Stoic Swords,
To Run With The Wind, To Become, on this Heroic Course
I Am Light Bright like a Wild Horse
Hey lover
Another year has passed
But it's the same old story.
Like how the rabbit fell
And Alice flew
A pretty turn, a flaw in my mind.
But of course,
A lover is only worth a penny in the den
A God that wields man.
So please bury me in pride, and dignity
Hey lover, when you walk over my grave
Turn and kiss me
Don't fall in whole
One heart is enough
When you run into my heart
In the false meadows of love
Please, keep my blood in your veins.
We fall, scramble, cry
You dig your claws into my soul
Oh my agony, in pain and seclusion
We fall, scramble, cry
You dig your claws into my soul
Lemon in my throat,
Acid in my brain
My hat won't work, mad hatter
Guess one's handiwork is enough to make one fall in deep
Street of love,
Bed of roses
Make sure not to fall,
Oh, pure evergreen saint.
For my heart will rot in despair,
Dear lover.
Cover for necro-mania, and other horrors, worked by epstein, deviation
From accountability; apperition like; I
Seem to see? In violence both near and
Far..into a mud, it seems is set the bar'
Most info, screams of only war, yet the
Shrieks were real, and i guess still are.?
From those sacrificial, innocent ones..I
Wonder? Who among us really sleeps now
Well.? And feels affected.' Yet time itself; has yet to tell? Tranches of info to
Light stay coy? The torrid tomes of pred o
Viles..Dear girls and boys' much abuse and
Slaughter.' Yet who wields the knife? Or guns? Or bombs..? How i curse this blight.'
Some light..I crave, yet darkness reigns..'
As ex-royals and current dignitaries, play table top
Games.'
There are those who Save Coins for a better tomorrow
yet, to live for tomorrow is to live in Sorrow
for today truly is all we ever have
when one wields the Sword and Staff,
Just Let It Shine, it's truly as simple as that
and this is the Great Celestial Epitaph,
hoarding in goods that inevitably turn to dust
but a token in the spirit, In This I Trust
what we do and don't do is all that counts
Right Here, Right Now is Paramount
Ashes to Ashes, Illusions to Night
Fire to Fire unto Wisdoms of Light,
Be Forever in this moment, heed to these Innards of Life
for Yesterday is Gone, Tomorrow a Farce, by Wisdom we Rule the Nights
some never see, some know this road
some find Treasures, some Reap Thorns
All Is Wise, externally nothing ever lasts
Investments in Knowledge Conquers the Hour Glass
Be Present, what you seek lies within
some chase and some claim these riches,
so never wait for the proper time
See It, Believe It, and Live To Shine
knowing all is one
why’re we not undone
attracted, repelled
name of God misspelled
ego’s the fault line
but since we’re divine
our void-centric view
let’s bliss beats renew
seeing God in all
we’ll then never fall
since spirit not form
exudes His love warm
let us not be lax
correct parallax
viewing auric fields
as power God wields
The folds of arrogance loosen and spill,
Though draped upon the shade of restraint.
?
Relentless flare of crimson defiance,
Met with the cool stubbornness of blue.
?
Tomorrow tangles like wild vines,
Today wields a blade of bitter resolve.
With calloused fingers, and ink-stained hands,
A poet prepares for battle.
Searching for the calm in the storm,
Paused, poised, and still.
A deep breath in.. a long exhale;
Their pen becomes a weapon.
The power it wields, undeniable;
It spills truths, immeasurable:
The blood of a shattered Nation.
The pen: a weapon; a battle-cry.
Rallying masses to follow its lead.
Demanding justice, answers, and equality.
The poet, constructing, and carefully crafting;
Their words, building momentum.
Lighting a beacon, leading us all -
Towards a beautifully rare Rebellion.
A nail in his thigh, yet onward he goes,
Through fires of labor where no mercy flows.
The crown meant to pierce now hardens to shield,
The pain that once struck becomes what he wields.
The Maker still whispers, “Endure and create,”
While time and the paycheck decide his fate.
He toils through the sparks, through the smoke and the grime,
A martyr of metal, a slave to the time.
Each rusted command, each unspoken demand,
Is forged in his soul by an unseen hand.
Yet out of the ache, the burn, and the bruise,
He shapes a tomorrow he’ll never use.
Make room for Him - the God of miracles,
He is a wonder, mighty in power.
Our God is multifaceted, with many Names,
Lord, Saviour, Healer, Baptizer, and Deliverer.
Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley,
He is who He declares - I AM, the Lord.
This season, He is moving with certainty,
On our behalf, His Hand wields Heaven’s sword.
When we whisper His Name, His Spirit will rise,
Stirring our souls, commissioning us anew.
His favour shields us with angelic eyes,
Unlocking our senses - sight and hearing too.
He moves in ways mysterious and rare,
With lightning, thunder - miracles everywhere.
My timidity
The agent's boldness
The weapon he wields
September 4, 2025.
Line 2: "she reassured me with an unfamiliar line"
she's but an alluring, poisonous spider
that wields her sexiness like a weapon.
come what may, she gets what she wants;
an opportunist; her target, malleable men
uninterested in relationships, she's all about
grifting. she once tried to lure me into her web.
she reassured me with an unfamiliar line...
"don't worry, I don't bite!"...but I knew better.
she's an effortlessly seductive temptress
with intoxicating charms tough to resist;
she enjoys dangling her feminine wiles
like a carrot for benighted men to nibble.
she's left a trail of broken men in her wake.
be careful, my guy! do not let her suck you
into the vortex of her magnetism, for she'll be
the author of your destruction.
Though all the ways our paths may roam
The goal of every journeys end
Where calls the heart to hearth and home
Through wending weather beaten bends
The welcomed warmth of hearths embrace
Whose comfort cloaked in threadbare wise
No longer wields the power to chase
The moody rain from autumn skies
Soft and smooth, freshly manicured with
No trace left behind of struggle or woe;
Hard to gauge the multitude of daily trials
Or the enormous good and success bestowed.
He’s not afraid to let harsh enemies see his strength.
Strong and firm, his grasp telegraphs immaculate powers,
His steeled convictions and unyielding determination,
And the hell that might rain down in furious showers.
From all directions his enemies test his mettle
Then find themselves wilted on bloody ground.
Respect replaces immature, misguided disdain and fear
When he wields the power of Light and sound.
Gentle, with kindness and bountiful praise
He guides his family and subordinates through remarkable lives.
To others, “You will do it because if you don't...” his favorite phrase,
As he looks intently into their cowardly eyes.
There’s no wavering, no fear. His hopeful message is crystal clear.
Each declaration of his executive powers is deliberately penned
To fight prior injustices, selfish evil, and despicable greed.
The American people know in his powerful hands is all the strength we need.
Sub Categories
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.