Yet another poetry thread

[thefang1]

I've posted 2 threads on specific poems already, and because I don't feel like spamming the topics list, I've decided to start my own poetry thread.  Here's a poem that I particularly like, i wrote it two years ago, and was the first true poem I ever wrote of my own accord.

There was a man of great and terrible prowess,
Who sat and watched from all the tallest towers,
And because it was said none could defeat him,
All the lords consented to seat him,
Upon the throne to their great kingdom.

And there he sat,
And watched and waited,
And pain and lust he would brew.
Until war he declared,
On another nation.

And at the last decisive battle,
Seated upon his glorious saddle,
Felled was the lord of greed and lust,
Felled by a man he most did trust,
His aide-in-arms, his comrade in battle,
Pierced his heart and threw him from his saddle,
His blood ran thick his corpse was burned,
His dignity taken and never returned.

I realize that the middle varied in that it didn't rhyme, and that's generally a no-no, but please realize it was my first attempt a civilized poetry, instead of that barbaric crap that I had to write for assignments in school.  I basically wrote it as a miniature epic, and it doesn't really have any meaning on the surface, unless you make certain assumptions.  I've been considering lengthening it into a full-fledged short story that adds in the details necessary to lend it an inner meaning, but I've found almost no time to do it.  The basic inner meaning is that the "lord of greed and lust" was a great warrior that was given power for his military skill and cunning, not his morals or ethics.  This is a mistake made throughout history, prime example being Rome.  This lord, given a taste of power, goes on to prove the second point of the poem- it is human nature to seek even more power once one acquires some.  The lord declares war and causes great calamities.  He disregards the general public and the rest of the world in his quest, and is re-payed for his cruelty when his closest friend and ally destroys him.  He is then dishonored because his kingdom wanted vengeance for his selfishness, and he is never given the chance to redeem himself.  Any well-versed historian would notice the similarities between my story and the real-life story of Julius Caesar.  This was intentional.

[thefang1]

Lich Heart

I gave my heart away
And had it given back
Now what am I to say
To the heart that I should lack?

It's beaten and forgotten
A God-Forsaken thing
Where angels had once trodden
The Devil now is King

I feel the heartbeat fading
Away into the dust
And know that what's remaining
Is naught but fear and lust.

This is a poem that I posted on another thread (HELP!!!!!!!) and have re-posted here, on my own personal poetry thread.

[thefang1]

Destiny


Life isn't full of choices,
It just isn't anymore,
The only way to go is,
Through another open door.

I'm walking on a pathway,
it just doesn't seem quite right,
It seems that I'm being led,
To another losing fight.

I want to feel the freedom,
To escape from all the chains,
To walk away all on my own,
And escape from all the pains.

Destiny is depressing,
It takes out all the fun,
What's the point in doing,
What's already been done?

Yet another poem that was posted on another thread (a short poem) that I have re-located here.

[Kadesh]

 You've got more guts than I do, fang. I would NEVER EVER post my earliest stuff. It's horrible and disgusting... religious crap. So... I raise my glass...... for a refil.  Can't wait to read more.

[Petling]

I love it!!! This is awesemundo!!!

[thefang1]

Thank you, thank you. Here's a short one on bloodlust that I wrote.  i think I'll expand on it later, but this is it for now.

I feel blood in,
This throat of mine,
I'm savorin',
The viscous wine.

I want it less,
And need it more,
Through others' deaths,
I get reward.

[Kadesh]

 I'm sure that'll be a Vamp favorite! I liked it... short and to the point.

[Petling]

Very beautiful.

[thefang1]

Thanks.  I don''t want to sound demanding, but would anyone mind actually critiquing my work and giving suggestions?

[Petling]

I'm sorry, I suck at that stuff, all I can tell you is if I like it or not.

[thefang1]

that's alright.  Anyone else think they can do it?

[Kadesh]

Thank you, thank you. Here's a short one on bloodlust that I wrote.  i think I'll expand on it later, but this is it for now.

I feel blood in,
This throat of mine,
I'm savorin',
The viscous wine.

I want it less,
And need it more,
Through others' deaths,
I get reward.

The punctuation in your poem needs some work. If it's read how it's puncutated, it doesn't flow correctly. And you really could expand on the theme and make it a tad longer. Sometimes it's possible for a writer to do this, but others (as I know from experience) it's damn near impossible.

[thefang1]

Yeah, like I said, I was considering making it longer.  Not sure what you mean about the punctuation...  Think you could edit it how you think it should really be?

[Kadesh]

Thank you, thank you. Here's a short one on bloodlust that I wrote.  i think I'll expand on it later, but this is it for now.

I feel blood in
This throat of mine.
I'm savorin'
The viscous wine.

I want it less,
And need it more;
Through others' deaths,
I get reward.

More like that? But I'm not an expert at punctuation, so it's entirely possible that I'm using it incorrectly. I don't think so... but it IS possible.

[thefang1]

Sorry I've been gone so long, I was on vay-k.  Anyway, I'm feeling s**tty today.  Here's one that I cooked up, fresh from the ovens of hell.

The Insanity of Being Sane


I feel the need to act in hate,
To with a devilish grin,
Let the world appreciate,
The demon I am within.

To in anger lash out,
In desperation take hold,
To clear up the doubt,
With horrors untold.

What could they do,
Or think, or say,
To wound me deeper,
Than they have this day?

What in the world,
Could be worse than this?
This hateful prison,
This miserable bliss?

To be born a martyr,
A bodily freak,
And instinctually hate,
The very goals that you seek.

To despise yourself,
With undisputable spite,
For doing what you know,
Is the only thing right.

Could you survive it?
Could you stand tall?
Could you take pride,
In taking the fall?

I doubt that you could,
I know that you'd fall,
In fact I doubt standing,
Would be an option at all.

The title, which will confuse most of you because you don't understand the back story, has special meaning to me.  Don't question it, I wrote this poem for me.