Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"sobbingly" poems
Time is a Tyrant - this truth well known To all who have found and lost - A Tyrant dividing each to their own In a game of the hour glass' cost. "Time is a Tyrant," said the Nurse to the Babe On the day the Babe was born, "So be sure to serve it well, behave, Or forever be caught forlorn." And the Babe that grew was as careful as mice Not to stir the temper of mighty Time; He ducked and he cowered, he froze into ice And the frost on his heart turned to rime. Then one day, as the Babe-grown-Man walked in the woods, Hurrying so as never to tarry, He was stopped in his tracks at the sight of an Angel Whose treasure of love 'twas his burden to carry. They walked arm in arm, this Angel and Man, Till the sun in the leaves filtered emerald hue, Then he down on one knee and sobbingly sang: "I love, it is true, I love..." But there in his head, as the Nurse had said, Was Time, the Tyrant of ever, And the Man, now standing, "I hate you," he said, "I will love you... but never, but never." The Angel fled, with tears on pale cheeks, And white feathers strewing the air, But the Man, left behind, was catching the streaks Of her misery, soft as her hair. Years passed in the wood, and the sunlight fled The boughs where the lovers had been, And now in their stead was Time's cruel tread Spinning loaming of poisonous green. Yet, many years after, the Man returned And found his Angel there. They sat in the shade of the sun, last it burned, As he told her, at last, still, "I care. "But Time is a Tyrant, for this you must know, With a chain put around every heart; The moment I loved you and thought love could grow Time's chain grew tighter and forced us to part." For Time is a Tyrant - this truth well known To all who have played and lost, Who have struggled and fought just to keep their own In the game of the hour glass' cost.
0
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 6:41 AM UTC
Time is a Tyrant
Time is a Tyrant - this truth well known To all who have found and lost - A Tyrant dividing each to their own In a game of the hour glass' cost. "Time is a Tyrant," said the Nurse to the Babe On the day the Babe was born, "So be sure to serve it well, behave, Or forever be caught forlorn." And the Babe that grew was as careful as mice Not to stir the temper of mighty Time; He ducked and he cowered, he froze into ice And the frost on his heart turned to rime. Then one day, as the Babe-grown-Man walked in the woods, Hurrying so as never to tarry, He was stopped in his tracks at the sight of an Angel Whose treasure of love 'twas his burden to carry. They walked arm in arm, this Angel and Man, Till the sun in the leaves filtered emerald hue, Then he down on one knee and sobbingly sang: "I love, it is true, I love..." But there in his head, as the Nurse had said, Was Time, the Tyrant of ever, And the Man, now standing, "I hate you," he said, "I will love you... but never, but never." The Angel fled, with tears on pale cheeks, And white feathers strewing the air, But the Man, left behind, was catching the streaks Of her misery, soft as her hair. Years passed in the wood, and the sunlight fled The boughs where the lovers had been, And now in their stead was Time's cruel tread Spinning loaming of poisonous green. Yet, many years after, the Man returned And found his Angel there. They sat in the shade of the sun, last it burned, As he told her, at last, still, "I care. "But Time is a Tyrant, for this you must know, With a chain put around every heart; The moment I loved you and thought love could grow Time's chain grew tighter and forced us to part." For Time is a Tyrant - this truth well known To all who have played and lost, Who have struggled and fought just to keep their own In the game of the hour glass' cost.
Continue reading...
44
We're close, but we're not, Why all this spacious distant. From deep talks to barely any chats, Within a swift of an instant. It hurts, severely pains, Why, why all of a sudden. Heart aches, eyes sobbingly swollen, Tears shred in place of the unspoken. ~A.d | 2 Mar 2014
0
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
Why.
Ferocious wind, uncommon dimness quivered my being. Sensing the storm hither and thither, I ran to shield my being. Every corner I hid, darkness outstretches its ugly sheets. I pondered, where do I find myself the survival string? Hopeless and scared, I curled myself and give in. With heaviness at heart and clutter in mind, darkness privileged this state of mine. Clouds of emotions hovered overhead, Poured their rain of bitterness onto me. Ridiculed me thunderously, mocked at my feebleness, Thrusting me more into blackness, they roared and danced jubilantly. Which world was I fighting? The world inside or outside of me. Helplessly and sobbingly, I stayed underneath their weight. Clouds covered the sky, day and night all appeared the same. I waited for hours and days, eventually, the ray of hope extended its arm through them. I hold the grip of light, a gleam lifted me from black to white. Mighty clouds lost their potential in the bright and deliberately leave me behind. I wept and bid adieu to the older being, merrily hugged the newer born and powerful being.
0
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 2:34 AM UTC
The Powerful Being