"sythe" poems
Thee gnome had called
hymm mein flatterer, then
an ape fight for quills, to be
or naught, hidden by a hive
patch of bramble. Do ordinance
iris search of apart theorhetic sea,
Adeiu mostly, can wearwolves
as sultry be known to chew
rawhide bones teethlesslee.
Gather by a dared deity
of A Roman's antiquity,
all of course to femine
posterity. An Aye for Aye,
a sythe to seize do naught
ii and cling. For better is yet
to OyYea' and I, causes instantly
be and bee.
cliche toupee'
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Do flower petals fall to earth
and wither dry come autumn's blow
or does it swing between the winds
And lay beneath the winter's snow?
Come and taste the nurtured vine
the sweet it holds like sun dried grapes
and through the years this cup of mine
poured into hearts for all to taste.
Here the shadows come to life
and work against the hues of black
in hopes to turn a shade more light
Become alive, a heart it lacks.
Death decends with sythe and robe
Cutting down the narrow road
and laying seige to wondrous lands
by taking captive all the hope.
See the moon rise from the east
reach her apex in the sky
and all the clouds like history gone
reveal the stars which shine so bright.
A faith sweeps fast across the shores
jumping nations, touching clans
and like a child's innocence
it turns us all into pious men.
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 11:54 AM UTC
Death came today but he was early.
Right address, right person, wrong date.
Oh I understand he has a job to do but my father's not ready for you.
So shoulder thy sythe and make good your exit, because dad's not ready for this journey!
May 27, 2023
May 27, 2023 at 8:40 PM UTC
I don't need a god
Or any idol before me
I'd rather not kneel and show my weakness
I'd rather weep the tears
Mourn a final time
To show how scared I am
I don't need a cross to hold
I don't need a bottle or blade
I need the silence of a vacant altar
What I need is never what I get
What I want is nothing
But **** it I require a voice to say it'll be ok
For something or somebody
To comfort me in the darkest of days
Even those who love the dark fear it
They know all to well the monsters created
The demons that awaken
It's more than just a nightmare
It's a abyss always drowning its victims
With their own fears
I just pray to my insanity
Maybe my depression
Or perhaps the dark
To allow me one more river of tears
So I can finally swim out of this desert
I've loved and lossed
Lived and learned
Made mistakes invaluable
My proof is the scars
I doubt you'll ever believe the story to
This isn't just an atheists prayer
This is the plea of a monster with no conscious
To finally feel an emotion rather than anger and hate
Depression brings only crimson tears
I just wish somebody can tell me they understand
Yet you'll try and tell me
I should find an anchor in your heavenly father
It's not as easy as saying you believe
I'll never believe in a hypocrite
I'll only believe that one day
My prayer will be answered
With the bringing of boney fingers to my throat
Grains of sands falling
Causing the bells of my demise to toll
Swinging about the sythe to my chest
My prayer is to finally cry
To finally let out all the pain
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
And there lay his body,
Peaceful
sleeping
In a pristine coffin,
Ready for the funeral service
The room is full of loved ones,
The people who gave him life
They gather
waiting for any more guests,
Unaware that the most important one is already here
The grim reaper is here with his sythe
Ready to bring this man's soul
to the next life
But as he looks at the man
He weeps
He cries, for the reaper never wanted this job
He never wanted to be
In between life and death
He never wanted to be the one to guide tortured souls,
to see their pain
and then have to send them
to heaven or hell
The reaper cries too
He cries for the souls who never got to finish their life
He cries for the mothers, fathers, children, uncles, sisters
He cries for what they left behind
For fate is cruel
And no one decides
when their time stops
The reaper cries,
the rivers and rain fill with sorrow
The reaper cries
And the sea feels his pain
But when people think of him,
They blame him for taking their loved ones
They cry and mourn
Unaware that
The reaper cries too
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 2:52 PM UTC
He vibrated himself through yesterday where I found him
Kneeling at the alter with a white rosarie.
He thumbed each bead slowly.
I had left him there ten yeras before praying
Today.the rosarie ended.
Time for pay.
Souls are often bought and sold this way.
The pitch black man was the arbiter
Shango man gonna have his say.
Slowly he rose from the kneeling board.
Had enough time? I heard him say.
Your childrens souls can be forfeit.one child for
One more day.
No I said to the shango man
Come.close and take me away.
Ten years beneath the sythe is enough
Awaiting.dark to fall.
Come closer said the shango man
One step is to close our deal
So darkness fell before I
Could tell.
Tolling bells
Decent.
To
Hell.
Shango.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
As I Lay Awake, Thinking Thoughts Of Thunderous Motives
Hover Above My Boulder Like Cranium
A Spectre Chanting Noises
Oh, ******* Spectre, What Do You Want?
Oh But A Moment But A Time But A Beat
So I Start BeatBoxing As I Lay Awake
GirlFriend Laying Next To Me
Oh But A Magical Line From The Head
Oh But A Spirit I Can Take Into, Go Forth Into The Head
Oh But A Thought I Can Construct In The Robotic Like Construct
Oh But A Mass I Can Sway With Just Talking Whispering Screaming
Wanting....
As I Cut The Beat For The Time Felt Right
I Sit, Think
Looking For Wisdom In The Minds Insight
Thoughts Linger Like An Aroma
Plots Kick In
With My Mouth Bringing Sythe Like Noises
Spectre Leaps Into Existence
As An Eye Sees Persistence
Lapse In A Moon Time Has
Healing Powers, So Do Tunes
Actions Only Speak Truth
Motion Speaks Louder
Clouds Of Thought Can Be Captured Used To Plot
Next Thing To Do
Is Grove When You Move Leap On Homie
Silence Arisen
A Spectre
Invision
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
A blast goes off,
the ticking bomb in my head.
Yet it doesn't stop,
So I can't be dead.
The red splashes forth,
A world of Crimson forms from the shrapnel.
A world that already ran its course,
Devil's wings surrounds its chapels.
A winged Angel with a sythe,
Hovers over ever vigil.
To save these people from their strife,
Yet held at bay by a metal sigil.
The people look up at their hero,
pain forming in his red eyes.
They need rescue from their pharoe,
Upon his throne constructed by lies.
Death points at the Pharoe's black heart,
Tell the people to take up arms.
the king and his men were torn apart,
their blood of dark pitch baptised their charms.
Death broke free from the prison in the
sky,
descending upon them with an eagles cry.
One Swype he ended all of their lives,
They never even had time to ask why.
My head pieces itself back together,
blood pours back into my body's Nile.
Secrets remain the same forever,
as on my face a gentle smile.
Carpe.... Diem....
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
On a hill I lonely stay
A feeling of painful slay
I wish that friends would stay
So they make me bright and fair.
Up on a lonely land
I found my lonely friend
His clothes were warm and blue
And his heart sought to play
Long I knew not his name
He was but lone himself
Poor, wretched and sythe I'd been
Sought friends but none to see
I exposed my rugged skin
And begged in street of streets
An empress spat on me
And a slave kicked my feet
I wept for my head did bleed
And my blood went sourly green
I found a magic staff
Which turned things to gold
I wore my ***** rag
And touched all I owned
Behold came my riches
As wide as earthly pit
In a castle I did live
And kingdoms I did rule
Everyone was my friend
And no one inflict pain
The empress did I kick
And the slave I did free
I made the poor, kings
And the rich I did kiss
So good was my reign
That no one dared to feign
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
old man, forsake hope
veritas pursues you now
and ends your false dreams
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
The grim reaper thinks you're a keeper.
with glint of an invisible wink,
twill of the sythe.
Deaths lets you know ;
What the point between
new and old life thinks.
as a rose with no petals,
Post mort charms.
or a bird without wings,
you fall unto deaths arms.
You'll never need to die
again or seek inmortality.
just take this lipless kiss,
bonefull *****
just let go .
Give your self to something
other than a yes or no.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC