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Best Poems Written by Leah Powell

Below are the all-time best Leah Powell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Leah Powell Poem

From Darkest Depths

From the Darkest Depths I whisper,
from the Darkest Depths I call to you.
From the shadows I whisper your name, your soul,
from the Deepest Depths of Darkness I lure you to my lair,
to my heart, entrancing you into the spell that I spin,
watching, always watching for your slightest move against me,
your slightest thought of betrayal.
From the Darkest Depths I sieze your mind, 
twist it with my own, 
I lure you to the Darkest Depths where there is no sun.
From the Deepest Depths of Darkness, I grin the darkest grin,
inviting you to play, inviting you to stay,
trapping you in the spell I spin, drawing you further away.
Before you can clap your hands against your desprate ears,
my whisper finds its way to you and there is no escape.
To the Darkest Depths I take you, and remain forever more.
The sun brings the shadow, the light brings the darkness,
and from me there is no leave.
You cannot flee, you cannot run, 
you stand a frozen statue,
enchanted by my whisper, by my calling of your name.
I take your soul inside me, and it is mine for good;
You are free to go now,
but only if you can. 
Never trust my whispers, 
don't fall in step with me,
but if you see me in the Darkest alley
I will whisper from the Darkest Depths
and your life will belong to me.

Details | Leah Powell Poem

Freedom Will Come At Your Call

I looked out across the sea
and something out there screeched at me.
I looked out upon the sea from my rock 
in the middle of the ocean, unlike a dock,
and screeched back at the thing,
and the scream will ring and ring.
Something reared from the wave's crest,
as if waking from a deep, deep rest.
Its neck was arched and eyes were searching,
searching for me, its great form lurching.
It plunged into the waves,
diving into the ship's blue grave,
and then appeared before the small little me,
compared to it, the size of a pea.
It bent its head level with mine,
and my heart was tugged with a piece of twine
that had always been there,
ready to see me pair,
and here I was, looking beauty in the face,
even if it was of the serpent race,
with a scaly body and yellow eyes,
I felt my courage on the rise.
I reached my hand and caressed its head,
though most would think them surely dead.
I climbed upon its back with glee,
crying out that I was free.

Details | Leah Powell Poem

What Is the Truth

Will we ever know the true truth?
If someone stares you in the face,
says a few words,
and says that's the truth...
How do you know?
The whole world could be saying a statement,
saying it's true,
with every person on every continent
shouting out that this is the truth,
what if they lie?
How would you know?
You never can tell
when a person is lying
or not. 
You may think it's the truth, 
know it's the truth,
but do you really know that 
it's truly the truth?
The whole galaxy could be a lie,
and nobody knows it.
I could be lying,
but how could you tell?
How could I tell?
The truth will never be found, on this Earth or another.
Not even the purest of heart knows the truth.
The truth is a mystery that will never be solved,
even until after the end of time.

Details | Leah Powell Poem

Black Fang

I am a friend of the trees, the water, the plants, the grass.

I am a friend of the sky, the clouds, the rain, the thunder, the lightning.

I cried out to the stars, the shining stars on their black table, serving the moon.

I cried out to the moon, the moon in its throne, watching the happenings of the Earth and the heavens.

I cried out to the night, with silent wind, the never-ending darkness, the never-ending beauty.

I cried out to the black owl, with its heart shaped face and smooth, patterned feathers.

I cried out to the trees, the wisest of all beings.

I cried out to the mountains, the tallest and broadest of the world.

I cried out to the hidden sun, blazing somewhere else, somewhere I couldnot see.

I called to the world and the world called back to me, whispered that it knew I was there, that its servant, its protector, its child, dared to acknowledge it.

The black owl hooted. It screamed back with me, joining my voice.

I was a creature of the night. 

I was Black Fang.

Learn more about from where this came from in my short stories!!!