Harbor me beneath your wings
Harbor me beneath your wings
and be my soothing strength and comforting pillow
For all my denied prays and rejected pains, scoffed by the wild winds
Be where I lay my heavy head and hurting soul crave a rest so low.
My youth abandoned me; the autumn of my life is at my door
Light up my dark alley, my death dungeon’s soar
Oh, let me wither calmly, slowly in your arms
Here at the quiet limit of the world at the edge of time
A bald white-haired shadow roaming like a ghost in a dream, out of charms
The ever silence world, mists of decay suffocating my prime.
Shall ever again a soft air fans the clouds and cleave them apart
And I shall see a glimpse of past glory of a child new born
Once more shall the passion of courtship zeal and rapture in the heart
Strive to bring back scenes and memories ruptured and torn
Shall I ever see you again
For I am a coward that have not the power to die
Or the strength to let these horror days and nights to pass by
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Related quotes
Tithonus
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality
Consumes; I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.
Alas! for this gray shadow, once a man--
So glorious in his beauty and thy choice,
Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem'd
To his great heart none other than a God!
I ask'd thee, "Give me immortality."
Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile,
Like wealthy men who care not how they give.
But thy strong Hours indignant work'd their wills,
And beat me down and marr'd and wasted me,
And tho' they could not end me, left me maim'd
To dwell in presence of immortal youth,
Immortal age beside immortal youth,
And all I was in ashes. Can thy love
Thy beauty, make amends, tho' even now,
Close over us, the silver star, thy guide,
Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears
To hear me? Let me go: take back thy gift:
Why should a man desire in any way
To vary from the kindly race of men,
Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance
Where all should pause, as is most meet for all?
A soft air fans the cloud apart; there comes
A glimpse of that dark world where I was born.
Once more the old mysterious glimmer steals
From any pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure,
And bosom beating with a heart renew'd.
Thy cheek begins to redden thro' the gloom,
Thy sweet eyes brighten slowly close to mine,
Ere yet they blind the stars, and the wild team
Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise,
And shake the darkness from their loosen'd manes,
And beat the twilight into flakes of fire.
Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
In silence, then before thine answer given
Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.
Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears,
And make me tremble lest a saying learnt,
In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true?
"The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts."
Ay me! ay me! with what another heart
In days far-off, and with what other eyes
I used to watch if I be he that watch'd
The lucid outline forming round thee; saw
The dim curls kindle into sunny rings;
Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood
Glow with the glow that slowly crimson'd all
Thy presence and thy portals, while I lay,
Mouth, forehead, eyelids, growing dewy-warm
With kisses balmier than half-opening buds
Of April, and could hear the lips that kiss'd
Whispering I knew not what of wild and sweet,
Like that strange song I heard Apollo sing,
While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.
Yet hold me not for ever in thine East;
How can my nature longer mix with thine?
Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold
Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet
Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam
Floats up from those dim fields about the homes
Of happy men that have the power to die,
And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
Release me, and restore me to the ground;
Thou seest all things, thou wilt see my grave:
Thou wilt renew thy beauty morn by morn;
I earth in earth forget these empty courts,
And thee returning on thy silver wheels.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Broken wings of Angels
angels came form a distance time, a time within a
moment of eternity, where even the light rays and
a millions time of infinity could only smell the
shadow of its existence
expose my soul to the profane world and judge me in
my powerless strength to my weakness, an offshoot
of my being human in this changing world
mingle my day to a life time, where I know my
eyes is close who wouldn't only witness the existed and
exploited world who has now have eaten and come
to conquer the weaknesses of every flesh
exploit my hunger, my thirst of adolescent, my
untainted mind to the world of unworthy pleasure, my
young dream of the future, my ambition to my ideal
world to come, my promises of what I am of this
life I always cherish
this moment of pleading wouldn't only reach your heart
and calls your soul to shield my destiny to take with me
the yoke that leads me to a dream where I may stay
may the wings I shattered be resembled in the wind you
touch and take my broken wings to fly in your heart,
that blew my feather to the nesting rest of breath be in
the glory of my soul
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Strength Within
The dark clouds are filling the skies.
The rain will soon settle in.
My sorrow then begins to rise.
Find strength within, find strength within.
All of the mountains are steeper ahead,
And I've struggled thust far I've been.
I calmly lower my head.
Find strength within, find strength within.
The world around me is dying.
Surrender is conquering a thousand men.
The life within me is crying.
Find strength within, find strength within.
I use to wonder when I'd walk my last mile,
Until I found Jesus, my friend.
Now there's a reason to smile!
I've found strength within, I've found strength within.
poem by Whitney Albright
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Hymn 80
An evening hymn.
Psa. 4:8; 3:5,6; 148:8.
Thus far the Lord has led me on,
Thus far his power prolongs my days;
And every evening shall make known
Some fresh memorial of his grace.
Much of my time has run to waste,
And I perhaps am near my home;
But he forgives my follies past,
He gives me strength for days to come.
I lay my body down to sleep,
Peace is the pillow for my head;
While well-appointed angels keep
Their watchful stations round my bed.
In vain the sons of earth or hell
Tell me a thousand frightful things
My God in safety makes me dwell
Beneath the shadow of his wings.
[Faith in his name forbids my fear;
O may thy presence ne'er depart!
And in the morning make me hear
The love and kindness of thy heart.
Thus when the night of death shall come,
My flesh shall rest beneath the ground,
And wait thy voice to rouse my tomb,
With sweet salvation in the sound.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Guard yourself
Guard yourself from the evil behind your wings
Hide yourself from the storm, the rain, and the winds
The forest gloom foster danger with deadly weight
which haunts us in some sad reverse of fate
The thoughts which bow the kindly spirit down
and break the springs of joy of pleasures flown
Keep away from the blast that whirls behind the hill
Stay away from the wave, the gale, and the rushing rill
Shy your ears from the overwhelming sound
of hail-stones showers pattered round
Beware of the lightning it will blind your eyes
Take heed! At its heels the thunder's wrath rises
keep your steps away from the edge of above
dark, deep, endless holes, the colossus of nothing
Love should yield us with strength of kings.
Strength should nurture us back to Love
The strength of acknowledging weaknesses and adverse.
Time is the fire on which we burn,
And among all the heavenly stars in the universe,
This is the planet where we were born.
And in this very world,
which is the world of all of us, where our story is told
The place where in the end and as a whole,
we may find our happiness, or not at all.
Even as we pursue it in persistence
Our perception of it changes as does our existence.
There is not a joy the world can give
Like that it from us may deceive
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And the was
And the was like it never had been
As if it is forgotten to be a never happen
It drifts away into the far mists of the past
Lovers first sight, zeal rapture and the engulfing lust
Time is a generous entrepreneur it let us grow old
The memories will be encapsulated in thin fragile patina
Being dappled with daily events unlikely attendants in our arena
Thus the was story never happened its shadow flickers into me cold
It is the world habit that love asks more than life can give
And once this lesson learned all essence is earned
Yet in its self web of fantasy and dreams love is its own fugitive
Rebellious, tenacious, delirious unwilling to give or to bend
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Land Of Innocence
Nightfall in my childhood,
Memories of my future send
Their scent in my mind...
My life and my feelings now?
A knife through my heart,
Sins that torn apart
The once-innocent mind...
The moon’s glance falls over the
Garden of my childhood,
There, where beauty is still untainted,
When I was as fresh as the morning dew...
I remember those feelings so well,
I keep them hidden in a safe place,
Locked inside my heart!
I believed then in the snowy-egret nymph,
I thought she came to me at night,
And carried me above the water
Through the Danube Delta,
To see the secret lagoons
Covered up by weeping willows,
To see the black swans as they dance,
As they perform a sacred ritual of nature,
To see the pelicans as they sleep.
Gazing at the black egrets,
As the wind smoothes their soft feathers,
To see those black ballerinas
As they all reveal an unknown passion:
The passion for the night!
And my dreams were beautiful then,
My voice was clear and sweet,
My mind was innocent and true,
Not touched by the perverted hand of life...
And it’s true what the nymph said to me,
Looking in my eyes, singing softly to my ear:
“From cradle to coffin,
You shall dream,
You shall wish and hope!
But remember, innocence can never be lost,
You will always have it inside,
Take your memories, put them aside,
And you shall find it
Right there; innocence stays! ”
How can I break away from what I am now,
Who will take those tears away?
Was I punished for naivety? Or for innocence?
Yet the falling into the sinner
That I am today, was so mild...
The falling always comes
With the sweetest sensations!
I crave for another night of my childhood,
I crave for a journey back
In the land of living dreams,
The land of sweet torment,
Land of Innocence!
Memories keep on swinging back,
And they hit me with all of their great power...
The nymph looked upon me, every single night.
She once took my hand and placed it on my heart:
“Here, you shall look inside,
Here are your memories - pieces of life,
Here are your dreams – pieces of immortality,
Here is your energy and frenzy -
Pieces of your untamed soul,
Here is your innocence, and always will be,
You just have to look after it.”
The ballet on water was revealing itself
To my child eyes, to my mind...
A weeping willow was my shelter,
I saw the couples of swans,
As they gently, tenderly danced a waltz,
Gracefully, slowly...
I woke up the next morning, locking the secret inside.
The awakening from that beautiful dream,
Into the nightmare of today
Came with the biggest of pains:
Realizing what I am,
Realizing it will never be the same...
My heaven I feel as if it is lost,
My dreams, I feel I will never accomplish...
The awakening!
The falling!
The curse!
I crave for another night of my childhood,
I crave for a journey back
In the land of living dreams,
The land of sweet torment,
Land of Innocence!
I was dreaming every night,
I only had sincere smiles...
Now I cannot but fake them,
My nights are filled with bad dreams,
I fear someone has stole it away from me...
Can I still dream?
Should I dare to dream?
Should I dare to touch the innocence inside?
What if it’s not there anymore?
Nymph comeback to me again,
Only one more time...
Take me there,
To see the show that never ends,
Take me there,
To hear you sing to me again,
Take me there,
To be myself one more time...
Comeback snowy-egret nymph,
Un-fill my heart of regrets,
And fill it with dreams and child’s passions,
Un-do this course of adulthood,
Teach me how to find myself,
To find my own dreams!
I do not dare to dream anymore...
Silence all those
Hell-voices from my mind! ! !
The awakening!
The falling!
The course!
Dear white, frail nymph
Bring me only Innocence,
It is all: mystery, passion,
Dream, love...
But most importantly,
Innocence is Poetry!
Snowy-egret nymph,
I shall dream about you tonight...
Dawn in my childhood,
Memories of my past send
Their poetry in my mind...
poem by Elya Thorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Valley Of Baca
PSALM LXXXIV.
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
I saw a youth pass down that vale of tears;
His head was circled with a crown of thorn,
His form was bowed as by the weight of years,
His wayworn feet by stones were cut and torn.
His eyes were such as have beheld the sword
Of terror of the angel of the Lord.
He passed, and clouds and shadows and thick haze
Fell and encompassed him. I might not see
What hand upheld him in those dismal ways,
Wherethrough he staggered with his misery.
The creeping mists that trooped and spread around,
The smitten head and writhing form enwound.
Then slow and gradual but sure they rose,
Those clinging vapors blotting out the sky.
The youth had fallen not, his viewless foes
Discomfited, had left the victory
Unto the heart that fainted not nor failed,
But from the hill-tops its salvation hailed.
I looked at him in dread lest I should see,
The anguish of the struggle in his eyes;
And lo, great peace was there! Triumphantly
The sunshine crowned him from the sacred skies.
'From strength to strength he goes,' he leaves beneath
The valley of the shadow and of death.
'Thrice blest who passing through that vale of Tears,
Makes it a well,'-and draws life-nourishment
From those death-bitter drops. No grief, no fears
Assail him further, he may scorn the event.
For naught hath power to swerve the steadfast soul
Within that valley broken and made whole.
poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The butterfly
I have watched a butterfly now a full half hour
So self-poised upon a yellow budding flower
And a huge winged butterfly with all rainbow colors indeed
I know not if it sleeps or it feeds
How in pure calm motionless it stands on leaf so thin
Even more still as it visits a stump pale with green
And then what joy waits it when the light breeze
Has found it out among the trees
It carried it up, down and away
A whole world on a spangled ray
This plot of Orchard-ground is ours
My son's trees they are, My family flowers
Stop here whenever you are jaded and worry
And take a rest in our green sanctuary
Visit our rich wreathe glorious foreheads of lofty pines
And breathe ambrosial passion from their veins
By the balmy flowers seek refuge from human eye
And smell their scent being shoot to the sky
Come often to us fear no wrong
Sit near us on a balmy bloom of a bough long
We will talk of sunshine and of song
And summer days long lost, for ever gone
When we were young and strong
Our days of youth vigor and rapture sealed in our memory’s throng
My fragile creature, stay, do not take haste your flight
A little longer stray around, delay in my sight
So many converses I have with you in a day bright
You are the historian of my infancy
With you around I can relive my fantasies
Float longer near me, do not yet depart
Tell me again the days of my childhood of lost heart
My sweet times in you I revive
Gay creature as you are to you I owe my strive
You bring solemn images of happy times to my heart
…..
These innocent days of sun and joy free of care
With no worries no burden of life to bare
How sweet, how pleasant were these days
The times when in our childish plays
Some giggling budding girls, few boys and I
Together chased you the flying butterfly
A very hunter did I rush
Upon my prey I leapt, I sprang, I fell
And the heavy odor of the trodden grass I smell
Oh that precious moment in me forever dwells
I lay on my back aloof and watched the sky
The thin gray cloud was spread on high
Sealed and carved in my bosom stone
Inside my very marrow bone
I got up and followed you from brake to bush
In open meadows in dales over brooks and creeks
As the sun of dusk sets behind the mountains peaks
But at the very last moment I feared to brush
The feathered dust from off your wings
This sweet joyful time makes my heart sink
Under huge broad-breast old oak tree lush and green
With trunk and boughs spread with bubbles skin
There under the tree in the warm summer day
I kissed a young maid with gems entangled in her hair
The day was not harsh no clouds in gray
The forest was in full foliage not bare
And the wind moaned soughing bleak
As I kissed her warm enthralling cheek
Yet there was not enough wind in the air
To move away the bright ringlet curl
From her lovely soft cheek
The swans’ lake flapped their wings
And trumped their shrieks in full beak to sing
And as I was sunk in this heavenly bliss
My eyes caught in swift a glance of the lovely valley of her breast
The smell of her silken robe and the scent of her inner vest
Shy and perplexed at her first maiden kiss
Painting in passionate pangs she looked for a liss
She folded her arms beneath her cloak
And she stole to the other side of the oak
At once into the summer air you bounced and flew
And took my joyous soul to fly away with you
Fly, Fly and tower into vaults of heights and heavenly bowers
Creature of sun and joy, wind and sky
My memories of past glory, my soul are with you even as I die
And return to us right after spring thundering showers
Guard yourself from the evil behind your magnificent wings
Hide yourself from the storm, the rain, and the howling winds
The forest gloom foster danger with deadly weight
which haunts us in some sad reverse of fate
Pass by lakes pores and ocean shores
Leap and rest on the back of cloudy rack sailing in ore
A child born out of his mother sweet womb
To turn into a hovering ghost over his stone tomb
Fly butterfly over earth and ocean with waving holy motion
Ride on winds that shake the dew drops that wake
The sweet budding spring flowers in balmy bowers
Carry these divine memories of joy and love to contend eternally with stars above.
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Truths and lies
This suffocating ache rises to my throat
This rushing horrible thought
A Mountain sits on my lips
would not let my secret slip
Stay coward stay shy
An infant so naive would not cry
Submit to your eyes beguile
And let it walks you through this dark aisle
Not an inward gnawing question asked
The whole world before you is masked
Darkness is your light
Lies are your guide
Hash no more words, they would reveal
what your heart crave so much to conceal
Hark no more lines up to this point
Where truth and lie, two adversaries reluctantly joint
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Guardian-Angel
A PICTURE AT FANO.
I.
Dear and great Angel, wouldst thou only leave
That child, when thou hast done with him, for me!
Let me sit all the day here, that when eve
Shall find performed thy special ministry,
And time come for departure, thou, suspending
Thy flight, mayst see another child for tending,
Another still, to quiet and retrieve.
II.
Then I shall feel thee step one step, no more,
From where thou standest now, to where I gaze,
---And suddenly my head is covered o'er
With those wings, white above the child who prays
Now on that tomb---and I shall feel thee guarding
Me, out of all the world; for me, discarding
Yon heaven thy home, that waits and opes its door.
III.
I would not look up thither past thy head
Because the door opes, like that child, I know,
For I should have thy gracious face instead,
Thou bird of God! And wilt thou bend me low
Like him, and lay, like his, my hands together,
And lift them up to pray, and gently tether
Me, as thy lamb there, with thy garment's spread?
IV.
If this was ever granted, I would rest
My bead beneath thine, while thy healing hands
Close-covered both my eyes beside thy breast,
Pressing the brain, which too much thought expands,
Back to its proper size again, and smoothing
Distortion down till every nerve had soothing,
And all lay quiet, happy and suppressed.
V.
How soon all worldly wrong would be repaired!
I think how I should view the earth and skies
And sea, when once again my brow was bared
After thy healing, with such different eyes.
O world, as God has made it! All is beauty:
And knowing this, is love, and love is duty.
What further may be sought for or declared?
VI.
Guercino drew this angel I saw teach
(Alfred, dear friend!)---that little child to pray,
Holding the little hands up, each to each
Pressed gently,---with his own head turned away
Over the earth where so much lay before him
Of work to do, though heaven was opening o'er him,
And he was left at Fano by the beach.
VII.
We were at Fano, and three times we went
To sit and see him in his chapel there,
And drink his beauty to our soul's content
---My angel with me too: and since I care
For dear Guercino's fame (to which in power
And glory comes this picture for a dower,
Fraught with a pathos so magnificent)---
VIII.
And since he did not work thus earnestly
At all times, and has else endured some wrong---
I took one thought his picture struck from me,
And spread it out, translating it to song.
My love is here. Where are you, dear old friend?
How rolls the Wairoa at your world's far end?
This is Ancona, yonder is the sea.
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guardian-Angel, The
A PICTURE AT FANO.
I.
Dear and great Angel, wouldst thou only leave
That child, when thou hast done with him, for me!
Let me sit all the day here, that when eve
Shall find performed thy special ministry,
And time come for departure, thou, suspending
Thy flight, mayst see another child for tending,
Another still, to quiet and retrieve.
II.
Then I shall feel thee step one step, no more,
From where thou standest now, to where I gaze,
---And suddenly my head is covered o'er
With those wings, white above the child who prays
Now on that tomb---and I shall feel thee guarding
Me, out of all the world; for me, discarding
Yon heaven thy home, that waits and opes its door.
III.
I would not look up thither past thy head
Because the door opes, like that child, I know,
For I should have thy gracious face instead,
Thou bird of God! And wilt thou bend me low
Like him, and lay, like his, my hands together,
And lift them up to pray, and gently tether
Me, as thy lamb there, with thy garment's spread?
IV.
If this was ever granted, I would rest
My bead beneath thine, while thy healing hands
Close-covered both my eyes beside thy breast,
Pressing the brain, which too much thought expands,
Back to its proper size again, and smoothing
Distortion down till every nerve had soothing,
And all lay quiet, happy and suppressed.
V.
How soon all worldly wrong would be repaired!
I think how I should view the earth and skies
And sea, when once again my brow was bared
After thy healing, with such different eyes.
O world, as God has made it! All is beauty:
And knowing this, is love, and love is duty.
What further may be sought for or declared?
VI.
Guercino drew this angel I saw teach
(Alfred, dear friend!)---that little child to pray,
Holding the little hands up, each to each
Pressed gently,---with his own head turned away
Over the earth where so much lay before him
Of work to do, though heaven was opening o'er him,
And he was left at Fano by the beach.
VII.
We were at Fano, and three times we went
To sit and see him in his chapel there,
And drink his beauty to our soul's content
---My angel with me too: and since I care
For dear Guercino's fame (to which in power
And glory comes this picture for a dower,
Fraught with a pathos so magnificent)---
VIII.
And since he did not work thus earnestly
At all times, and has else endured some wrong---
I took one thought his picture struck from me,
And spread it out, translating it to song.
My love is here. Where are you, dear old friend?
How rolls the Wairoa at your world's far end?
This is Ancona, yonder is the sea.
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonesome Heart
The mighty oak I see outside
It's roots are deep and long
It will live a hundred years
And bend when winds are strong
I sometimes feel I can't go on
Losing you is hurting me
I sometimes wish late at night
I had the strength of that old tree
The days my friends they stand by me
They tend to help me through
But then at night when darkness falls
Again I'm missing you
I try to fight but strength won't come
Soon I fall apart
Then the tears fall like rain
So alone is a lonesome heart
I sometimes wish I had the strength
To pick up and move along
But memories that I have with you
Streaches the nights so long
I sometimes wish I had the strength
So I would not fall apart
Missing you is against my will
So alone is a lonesome heart.
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From A Day To A Few
after a day of heartbreak
proving her love regardless
she knows her heart weak
and all only for him
but it happens again
and instead of shedding a tear
she draws strength from the pain
and hides her fear
as times passes
stronger she grows
closing her heart
not letting her emotions show
days turn into nights
Artemis guiding her dreams
nights fades into days
Apollo hiding her screams
then out of the blue
he calls her name
as if nothing has changed
she smiles her smile all the same
deep down
in her now cold heart
she silently prays
for the end to start
he speaks of nothing
it shatters her heart
he is her everything
but her world's torn apart
Goodbye, seems to be
the only thing that feels right
it's time to step out of his darkness
and into the light
poem by scarlette Phoenix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Of Innocence
Sometimes I wake up in the dark of night
And in my mind theres a picture of you
I know someday this dream will come alive
So for now your shadow will do
Ive never seen your face
But I know your in my heart
Maybe someday some place
Ill hold you in my arms
Chorus
I have a gift for you
Something that Ive held on to
Waiting for your sweet caress
The ribbon has beed on tight
For all that I hold inside
And only you will possess
This heart of innocence
I lay my head down on a pillow of white
Your in the dark I am cradled in peace
No thoughts from yesterday to haunt me at night
No tears to dry, no sad memories
It isnt hard to hold
And now Ill safely keep
The strength thats in my soul
Until you come to me
Chorus
Every night I make a wish before I fall asleep
That destiny will take your hand
And lead you to me
Chorus
[spoken] I love you
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weakness
Heavy eyes, heavy heart,
Crying out for strength
Does love have the power
To extend this length?
So weak, try to be strong
But still find a way to fall
I wonder now
Is there a way to conquer at all?
I see the cliff, feel the edge
Yet do not back away
Fear has stricken me inside
This picture can’t portray
Agony, humiliation and hate
I collapse into the air
Carrying only me
To a death beyond repair
Arms extended, tears for help
Pray one hears, my silent talk
I cry for strength
If only just to turn and walk
Foxiibabii
7/12/08
poem by Foxy Babii
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love For You, Sweet Earth
My love for you, sweet Earth, my mother,
I cannot hide - I do not crave
The phantom pleasures of that other,
That spectral world beyond the grave.
O spring, the blessedness of Eden
Compared to yours as nothing is!
Love's joys you bring us all unbidden,
And golden dreams, and light, and bliss.
What rapture to drink in the balmy,
Warm air of spring, to languor wed,
And watch the clouds drift slowly, calmly
High in the blueness overhead;
To wander happily and idly
Across a field and past a stream,
To catch the scent of blooming lilac
Or chance upon a radiant dream!..
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not Made
I am not made for this
I’m not strong enough
I’ve often wondered late at night
What it’s like to stop
What it’s like to have the world stop
Stop right under my feet
And start turning the other way instead
Maybe if I don’t think
Some strength will return
Maybe I could push the world around
Spin it on the tip of my finger
Get it moving again
At my pace
Let it beat in time with my heart
I think I need some strength
Just until I’m alive enough
To start living again
To start turning again
I could find someone to be my world
Someone to be my strength
I think it’s time I found some
God, please rip me up
And start again
Just like you did with the world
Do it to the Earth again
Find some way to help me
Some way to get me some strength
God, please help me start again
I might just apologise
See if I did anything to be sorry for
I might stop talking
And close up in myself again
Just like the old days
Before I had the world
And lost it again
I am not made for this
I am hurting too much
To be thrown back out in the cold
Alone and insecure
Without my world at all
I am not made for this
I am not made
poem by Perfect Fool
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When A Child Is Born
A ray of hope flickers in the sky
A tiny star lights up way up high
All across the land dawns a brand new morn'
This comes to pass
When a child is born
A silent wish sails the seven seas
The winds of change whisper in the trees
And the walls of doubt crumble, tossed and torn
This comes to pass
When a child is born
A rosey hue settles all around
You got the feel, you're on solid ground
For a spell or two no-one seems forlorn
This comes to pass
When a child is born
And all of this happens because the world is waiting
Waiting for one child, black, white, yellow - no one knows
But a child that will grow up and turn tears to laughter
Hate to love, war to peace and everyone to everyone's neighbour
And misery and suffering will be words to be forgotten, forever
It's all a dream, an illusion now
It must come true sometime soon somehow
All across the land dawns a brand new morn'
This comes to pass
When a child is born
This comes to pass
When - a child - is bor-or-orn...
Is bor-or-orn...
Is born...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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