#procession - Hello Poetry

A blind procession, slow and deep, Where shadows danced and secrets sleep. I walked before them, light my guide, To pave the path, where hope resided. But whispered doubt, a chilling breeze, Whispered of pride, and foolish ease. "You must lead on," the voices cried, Though sightless souls, with hearts inside, Stumbled and fell, in darkened night, Their steps unsure, their hopes alight. Blind faith they held, a hollow trust, Their boasted wisdom, a broken crust. "We see the way," their voices rang, A hollow echo, where truth was sang. Yet in their blindness, lost and weak, Their whispered prayers, a silent shriek. The path ahead, a tangled maze, Where light and darkness meet in haze. I walked on, though weary and worn, Their stumbling steps, a burden borne. For in their blindness, I saw a plea, A silent longing, wild and free. And as the dawn began to break, Their eyes unfurled, their spirits awake. They saw the light, the path they trod, Guided by one, who understood. The blind procession, now alight, With gratitude, they took their flight.

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Sep 8, 2025

Sep 8, 2025 at 6:53 PM UTC

Marwan-Baytie

Blind Procession

A blind procession, slow and deep, Where shadows danced and secrets sleep. I walked before them, light my guide, To pave the path, where hope resided. But whispered doubt, a chilling breeze, Whispered of pride, and foolish ease. "You must lead on," the voices cried, Though sightless souls, with hearts inside, Stumbled and fell, in darkened night, Their steps unsure, their hopes alight. Blind faith they held, a hollow trust, Their boasted wisdom, a broken crust. "We see the way," their voices rang, A hollow echo, where truth was sang. Yet in their blindness, lost and weak, Their whispered prayers, a silent shriek. The path ahead, a tangled maze, Where light and darkness meet in haze. I walked on, though weary and worn, Their stumbling steps, a burden borne. For in their blindness, I saw a plea, A silent longing, wild and free. And as the dawn began to break, Their eyes unfurled, their spirits awake. They saw the light, the path they trod, Guided by one, who understood. The blind procession, now alight, With gratitude, they took their flight.

28

Come hear, come pride Come near, go hide The drums that beat The thud of the street No fear, no course Make ready your horse Wearing black and red Well drank, well fed Drum - near Drum - fear His heels slam deep A soul will sleep He’s - here He’s - near A whisper, don’t shout! Now pass it about Drum Drum Drum Drum Girls dance, we jeer Face dry, no tear Chains clang, wheels turn Your pitty, we’ll earn Fire Straw Blood on the floor One blow, one try Don’t miss! you’ll die! Pray for me Pray for me Pray for me Please Confess of my sin God's glory to win Oh lord - oh god! The tongues! Hot rods! Flesh burns and fries Man weeps, not cries We wanted this Wanted this Wanted this gore We can’t watch no more! feet stuck to the floor  don’t turn away It’s theirs to pay Breath - in  grieve - sin Hold fast, hold steady His sword is ready Take comfort, take pride Heavens gates open wide   time to die time to die A cheer, a scream One faints, red dream He takes up the head Gods justice you said  Thank you Thank you Thank you Sir This is gods way The devil will say Now turn away For your soul - we’ll pray Franz Schmidtt  Franz Schmidtt  Franz   Schmidtt   Franz   Schmidtt

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Jul 23, 2025

Jul 23, 2025 at 6:48 AM UTC

EArthur

Time to die

Come hear, come pride Come near, go hide The drums that beat The thud of the street No fear, no course Make ready your horse Wearing black and red Well drank, well fed Drum - near Drum - fear His heels slam deep A soul will sleep He’s - here He’s - near A whisper, don’t shout! Now pass it about Drum Drum Drum Drum Girls dance, we jeer Face dry, no tear Chains clang, wheels turn Your pitty, we’ll earn Fire Straw Blood on the floor One blow, one try Don’t miss! you’ll die! Pray for me Pray for me Pray for me Please Confess of my sin God's glory to win Oh lord - oh god! The tongues! Hot rods! Flesh burns and fries Man weeps, not cries We wanted this Wanted this Wanted this gore We can’t watch no more! feet stuck to the floor  don’t turn away It’s theirs to pay Breath - in  grieve - sin Hold fast, hold steady His sword is ready Take comfort, take pride Heavens gates open wide   time to die time to die A cheer, a scream One faints, red dream He takes up the head Gods justice you said  Thank you Thank you Thank you Sir This is gods way The devil will say Now turn away For your soul - we’ll pray Franz Schmidtt  Franz Schmidtt  Franz   Schmidtt   Franz   Schmidtt

74

works burned to cinders poplar trees leaking resin bulging eyes lashed punishment as a lesson but his chain links snapped fresh from slavery hefty debts to the procession the gally of people alike that lent him a hand to his ascension a journey his own luck and his mind fortified his constitution they carried him to his fate that was to be absolution

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May 21, 2021

May 21, 2021 at 12:15 PM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

Free At Last

works burned to cinders poplar trees leaking resin bulging eyes lashed punishment as a lesson but his chain links snapped fresh from slavery hefty debts to the procession the gally of people alike that lent him a hand to his ascension a journey his own luck and his mind fortified his constitution they carried him to his fate that was to be absolution

15

The November 25, 1963 day of the cold sun, the noble horses, white horses-drawn caisson, the dignity of their somber gait, silver shoes resounded on the pavement, the skittish night-black riderless horse- Black Jack, led down the avenue of the people, his symbolic rider, no longer bound to the earthly life, it's sorrows. The noble horses accompanied him on his journey to the ages, the mystique, the dreams, deathless, where the ground is hallowed- Arlington.

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Apr 29, 2020

Apr 29, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC

regina-3

The Noble Horses

The November 25, 1963 day of the cold sun, the noble horses, white horses-drawn caisson, the dignity of their somber gait, silver shoes resounded on the pavement, the skittish night-black riderless horse- Black Jack, led down the avenue of the people, his symbolic rider, no longer bound to the earthly life, it's sorrows. The noble horses accompanied him on his journey to the ages, the mystique, the dreams, deathless, where the ground is hallowed- Arlington.

19

It’s all taking too long-- The commute, the wait The procession, the speech The descent, the dark-- I’ve dressed for the occasion And repose in my finest robe I just wish He’d hurry up Already -- c

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Aug 21, 2019

Aug 21, 2019 at 9:10 PM UTC

onhiatus

The Waiting

It’s all taking too long-- The commute, the wait The procession, the speech The descent, the dark-- I’ve dressed for the occasion And repose in my finest robe I just wish He’d hurry up Already -- c

11

Here comes the procession. They march through streets muddied with rain. They're lead by figures dressed in black. People look on in fear at their raven masks. The birth of the daughter was sad, because there's a sickness that plagues this land. It feeds on those doomed to a horrible fate. Though they start out their lives in innocence. No one knows when it will end, how does death take one's hand? Those figures dressed in black take off their masks, to reveal humans who have been put to task. But people move on and pretend, that this plague does not prey upon them. Only a certain few must suffer the memories, and they'll question the silence of this land.

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May 29, 2018

May 29, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC

tatiana

Procession

Here comes the procession. They march through streets muddied with rain. They're lead by figures dressed in black. People look on in fear at their raven masks. The birth of the daughter was sad, because there's a sickness that plagues this land. It feeds on those doomed to a horrible fate. Though they start out their lives in innocence. No one knows when it will end, how does death take one's hand? Those figures dressed in black take off their masks, to reveal humans who have been put to task. But people move on and pretend, that this plague does not prey upon them. Only a certain few must suffer the memories, and they'll question the silence of this land.

16

There was a funeral procession today Did you see it? I didn't get too I bet it was beautiful Lot's of black? I've always liked black How many cars were in it? 10? 20? 30?! I would have given anything to see it I wish i wasn't cooped up in this box I miss everything

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Jul 24, 2015

Jul 24, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC

jordan-fischer

Procession

There was a funeral procession today Did you see it? I didn't get too I bet it was beautiful Lot's of black? I've always liked black How many cars were in it? 10? 20? 30?! I would have given anything to see it I wish i wasn't cooped up in this box I miss everything

12

*Winter ends in bows Now burst the cheerings to Spring Leaves budding in trees*

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May 17, 2015

May 17, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC