Darkness And Sorrow
Speedy to the plunder,
Swift to the spoil;
The lion will eat straw like the ox.
A tumultuous noise,
The bricks have fallen down;
Light and joy,
Darkness and sorrow,
The wolf will dwell with the lamb;
To the brook of the willows like,
The Sycamore Tree that are cut down.
Love is as strong as death,
Jealousy is as cruel as the grave;
Listen to my muse oh Earth!
As white as snow,
To shave with a hired razor;
As slow as the tortoise,
The leopard will lie down with the goat;
In a barren night like a stillborn child where,
The teeth of the young lions are broken;
Darkness and sorrow,
Love is as strong as death itself.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Every animal and the lion and the lamb
For the parrot in its cage
the open spaces,
of the jungle remain
and unfolds in its mind.
Though if it escapes
here in the city
it would fly aimlessly,
among the buildings
and not know
where to find food and shelter.
At the zoo lions are camped in
and are placed together,
and fed by human beings.
Away is the field
and game that graze
and and a pan,
or river to get water from.
For the lamb there’s a camp
to graze in
and feed from a human
and to remain
a farmers’ property.
Every animal and the lion and the lamb
and all of us wait
for the child,
that leads animals to freedom
and for the world
to get righteousness.
[Reference=> 'The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them' (Isaiah 11: 6) .]
poem by Gert Strydom
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What lurks beneath civility
Is there an animal
that hides in every heart
and waits for a chance
to materialise?
Is homo homini lupus
etched into every soul
and does every human
wait for an opportunity,
to hunt and destroy
and to gain
from its fellow man.
Is this the way
until the One appears,
who will breake the spears
and dwell in hearts?
[References=>Homo homini Iupus=> Man is a Wolf to Man=> men prey upon other men. 'The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them' (Isaiah 11: 6) . ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Raven's Song
My Love,
The nights have grown longer,
The days have become shorter,
Yet still the length of which I spend watching you.
So graceful and delicate,
Moving through the day watching in silence,
Bowing your head with solitude and knowing.
The way your white satin dress blows in the fall breeze,
Such white against such grey,
Why, my love, can’t I be like you?
Why can I blow through the wind so simply as a fallen leaf?
My tears fall gently for I long to be near you,
Though here I remain,
A black stain against your white,
An impossible friend,
An omen of sorrow and death.
Oh how you shine with your light of beauty,
Your understanding of life,
The way you live in a world that is so open and free.
Your movements captivate me in awe,
Your slow silhouetted body,
A panicle against the dusky grey of gloom.
Mist and fog wrapping around you as a blanket does a small child,
Such a simple life you must lead.
No cares or sorrows,
No pain or grief.
My dear love, I wish you could see me,
I wish I were not as blind to you as a sunset to a blind man.
Shed your light on my darkness,
On everything that I stand for,
People fear me, for who I am,
What I represent,
Why can’t you show them differently?
Maybe if you looked upon me they would see,
That my darkness can bring light,
My sorrow can bring love,
That my deep chasm eyes do not hold death or unwanted knowledge,
Please, love, for that is what you are,
A forbidden love whom I can never have,
If only for a day I could be reborn,
As A feather from your wing,
A beam of light from your grace,
The shine in your eyes that carry so much joyful remorse,
Be such to me that I could never be to thee.
Listen to my call,
As a deaf man listens to his heart,
Hear what I have to say my love,
Listen with your eyes,
For this is my lungful song to you,
From the Raven to the Swan.
song, lyrics by Bethany Maxwell (2010)
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Sweet Sorrow
O Darkness of mine,
Why do they maltreat you?
O Sorrow so kind,
What is it you do?
How cruel they are,
to make Sorrow cry!
How cruel they are,
to leave Darkness looking up at the sky!
Why is Sorrow such a malady?
Who left Darkness in disarray?
He longs to live in sweet Sorrow's golden morrow,
even if it pierces like an arrow.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Song from Aella
O SING unto my roundelay,
O drop the briny tear with me;
Dance no more at holyday,
Like a running river be:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Black his cryne as the winter night,
White his rode as the summer snow,
Red his face as the morning light,
Cole he lies in the grave below:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Sweet his tongue as the throstle's note,
Quick in dance as thought can be,
Deft his tabor, cudgel stout;
O he lies by the willow-tree!
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Hark! the raven flaps his wing
In the brier'd dell below;
Hark! the death-owl loud doth sing
To the nightmares, as they go:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
See! the white moon shines on high;
Whiter is my true-love's shroud:
Whiter than the morning sky,
Whiter than the evening cloud:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Here upon my true-love's grave
Shall the barren flowers be laid;
Not one holy saint to save
All the coldness of a maid:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
With my hands I'll dent the briers
Round his holy corse to gre:
Ouph and fairy, light your fires,
Here my body still shall be:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
Come, with acorn-cup and thorn,
Drain my heartès blood away;
Life and all its good I scorn,
Dance by night, or feast by day:
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed
All under the willow-tree.
poem by Thomas Chatterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Friend, Death
Suicide
An escape from the world
From all the sorrow
The pain
The hurt
An escape from the darkness
Into the darkness
Never to come back out
I've looked for other ways
I've found other doors
But all of them were locked
The only door opened is death
Death will cradle me
Death will wipe my tears away
Death will comfort me
Death will love me
Death will do what no one else could
Death will understand
Death will be my friend
poem by Rachie West
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
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Spectres
How terrible these nights are when alone
With our scarred hearts, we sit in solitude,
And some old sorrow, to the world unknown,
Does suddenly with silent steps intrude.
After the guests departed, and the light
Burned dimly in my room, there came to me,
As noiselessly as shadows of the night,
The spectre of a woe that used to be.
Out of the gruesome darkness and the gloom
I saw it peering; and, in still despair,
I watched it gliding swift across the room,
Until it came and stood beside my chair.
Why, need I tell thee what its shape or name?
Thou hast thy secret hidden from the light:
And be it sin or sorrow, woe or shame,
Thou dost not like to meet it in the night.
And yet it comes. As certainly as death,
And far more cruel since death ends all pain,
On lonesome nights we feel its icy breath,
And turn and face the thing we fancied slain.
With shrinking hearts, we view the ghastly shape;
We look into its eyes with fear and dread,
And know that we can never more escape
Until the grave doth fold us with the dead.
On the swift maelstrom of the eddying world
We hurl our woes, and think they are no more.
But round and round by dizzy billows whirled,
They reach out sinewy arms and swim to shore.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I Am Silence (For Dave)
i am the wolf,
hot breath panting,
teeth gleaming in the darkness...
feet running the path of the night.
i am the hawk,
sucking freedom from the skies,
great wings lifting my soul...
infinity in my eyes.
i am the wind,
born from nowhere,
blowing past destination and thought...
both creation and destruction.
i am the rain,
falling from an unseen source,
to dance in the mouths of the earth...
tears of sorrow and redemption.
i am the moon,
sifting through timeless clouds,
winding through the fingers of trees...
i am hope unnamed!
i am the night,
the intimate touch of darkness,
forgiveness, death, and rebirth...
i am the stillness of god!
i am silence!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Genesis
In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;
Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.
And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;
The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.
Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.
Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,
The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,
All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.
For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.
And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.
For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.
For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.
And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.
And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.
And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.
And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Lions of the darkness
They...dark men
Working in the great power of night
They never walk by the light
Men who make darkness their joy
Woe to them
By the night they feel the happiest
As a versifier I most say the truth
The lions of the night
When the night comes, they come out of their den
With sounding teeth
And mighty claws
Rearranging the house of man
Lions of the night
Putting panic to the heart of man
Collecting taxes which they never deserve
On a faithful day the lions will be prey
By the almighty moulder
Or by men in khaki
Lions of the night...
Hope
an angel a bridge
of heart
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a light
of humanity tree
Aperotos Eros
Strong as death, and cruel as the grave,
Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath,
Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave,
Strong as death,
Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,
Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,
Burns above a world that groans beneath.
Hath not pity power on thee to save,
Love? hath power no pity? Nought he saith,
Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave,
Strong as death.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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How Great The Palace Stands
I
How great the palace stands
with its golden domes
in a city that is on seven hills,
snow white where it towers seven times.
As if everything holy, righteous and wonderful
comes to stature in it,
where hymns are constantly sung,
in the inner court and at the outside
with a central stela as a sign
of life originating, pointing into the air,
with the moon and sun meeting,
rises and dies as in ancient heathen worship,
circled twice,
almost like the throne of God Himself
and year in and out
have been seen as the very fortress against evil.
This place is full of light and darkness that mixes,
much like the checked surface of a chess board,
maybe symbolic of a cycle of life and death,
that is eternal for these people?
II
After a journey over the whole earth,
coming from far as a pilgrim,
the traveller looks at the big palace,
later he stops in front of a copper door,
where there are soldiers on guard duty
and these symbols are depicted on that door:
Jesus Christ on the cross, the death of Mary,
death by torture, death on earth,
or in space,
symbols of the communion,
a vine and sheaf of wheat
and on the edge of the door
birds of the night and day
and thus again light and darkness:
a dead dove, a sleeping guinea pig,
a hedgehog, a night owl,
a tortoise bitten to death by a snake
and a threatening raven.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shine Your Light
You've told me,
many times before,
that you prefer living,
in a world of darkness.
But tell me this,
when looking into darkness,
don't you see the smallest light,
in the distance?
Can't you see,
a little light,
that will shine through,
any darkness?
But yet you still say,
dark is better than light,
so are you saying that,
you too are a dark person?
No that can't be so,
when I think of you,
the last thing I'd think of,
would be dark.
You have so much light within,
but yet you've decided to live,
where no light can get in,
but is suffocated by dark.
You seem so strong inside,
but yet to everyone you hide,
except to me when you show me,
the real light within.
If you are full,
of such strong light,
then why do you tell everyone,
you love the darkness?
poem by Katherine Bryce
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The Greater Cats
The greater cats with golden eyes
Stare out between the bars.
Deserts are there, and the different skies,
And night with different stars.
They prowl the aromatic hill,
And mate as fiercely as they kill,
To roam, to live, to drink their fill;
But this beyond their wit know I:
Man loves a little, and for long shall die.
Their kind across the desert range
Where tulips spring from stones,
Not knowing they will suffer change
Or vultures pick their bones.
Their strength's eternal in their sight,
They overtake the deer in flight,
And in their arrogance they smite;
But I am sage, if they are strong:
Man's love is transient as his death is long.
Yet oh what powers to deceive!
My wit is turned to faith,
And at this moment I believe
In love, and scout at death.
I came from nowhere, and shall be
Strong, steadfast, swift, eternally:
I am a lion, a stone, a tree,
And as the Polar star in me
Is fixed my constant heart on thee.
Ah, may I stay forever blind
With lions, tigers, leopards, and their kind.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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As A Seal
Set me as a seal on your mind!
For love is as strong as death!
But, jealousy is as cruel as the grave.
Late spring,
Interwoven;
Joy! !
I will kiss you when i find you my love;
For many waters cannot quench love!
Nor, can flood waters drown it out.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Young Love
There are times - when you know
Love is lost to he who hesitates and you've got that
Feeling now you know it too well
Say o.k. - to your dreams
Never let that chance go by again
If it's love you need then listen and listen well
You've got to run like a young love
You've got to love like young love
Believe me you'll be a young love
You don't need to be anymore
You can think like a young love
Be strong like a young love
You can run like a young love
You don't need to be anymore
Live it now - everyday
'cos you know there is no better way
And in time you'll understand it's all in your heart
Lightning strikes - in the rain
But you know inside you're strong again
You can hear the thunder roll
But you stand apart
You've got to run like a young love
You can love like young love
Believe me you'll be a young love
You don't need to be anymore
As long as you think like a young love
Be strong like a young love
You can run like a young love
You don't need to be anymore
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Ribbon Of Darkness
A ribbon of darkness
streaks across the sky
as far as the eye can see
to beckon on the night skies
at the dusk of day.
A ribbon of darkness
embedded within life’s sorrow,
we hope within our hearts
will all soon fade away.
A ribbon of darkness
that attaches itself to everyone
when twilight skies
eventually come to call.
A ribbon of darkness
that beckons sleep to come
to every nodding head
and death to all those
lying on death’s bed.
16 June 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes (Love Poem)
Sometimes love surprises
And it comes when you least expect it
Sometimes the sun rises
But I can't see it
As I live in darkness
But your love has brought light in to my world
That place where I had dwell for so long in sadness
And now your sweet love has pierced my heart like a sword
Sometimes, I don't know what to do, or what to say
For so lond I dwelled in loneliness
Alone in the dark, hoping that you will stay
I've been wounded by your love, and all of this is madness
Sometimes love comes when the time is wrong
But your love helped me out of my shell
And thanks to your love I was reborn, and now I'm here standing strong
And sometimes in darkness I dwell
But your love is the light at the end of the way
Sometimes love hurts, and I feel like crying
But now I know that you are here to stay
And sometimes the time aint right, but I will keep trying
Sometimes I sat alone, in the middle of the night
Thinking I was dead inside
But the day I met you I found love
Without even knowing I was reborn
I was dead before I met you
And I was born the day you love me! ! !
poem by Elvira A Gasser
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