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Original Old poems

Discussion in 'Literature Library' started by Strytho, Apr 23, 2018.

  1. Strytho

    Strytho Tactical and Special Ball Breeder

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    This is going to be a collections of old poems that I wrote back in highschool. I used to like these a lot so I hope that you enjoy them.
     
  2. Strytho

    Strytho Tactical and Special Ball Breeder

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    Xel’ Tassadar’s Torn Self



    Man of more than words

    Born and raised to fight

    Hands stained with blood

    Banished by the light

    Frozen cold in time

    Broken by the right



    All his wounds may heal

    But scars are all he feels

    Cast into the dark

    Glowing like a spark

    Merged with the blaze of fire

    He climbs to somewhere higher



    For a hero he won’t wait

    He’s waging war despite the hate

    Blood streaks down his face

    Running a higher pace



    The kiss he cannot make

    The steps he cannot take

    The face he cannot see

    Maybe it wasn’t meant to be
     
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  3. Strytho

    Strytho Tactical and Special Ball Breeder

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    Where Two Ends Meet



    It’s time to move,

    The time has come,



    The upper hand is mine.

    Victory is within my grasp.



    The enemy is unaware,

    My opponent is blind,



    He can’t see the truth in front of him.

    He’s a fool and can’t see the truth.



    He has underestimated me for the last time,

    He was a fool to think I could be taken so easily,



    His mistakes will cost him.

    He will pay for his grave errors.



    Time is drawing short and the day fades to night.

    It’s almost dusk as the day slips away.



    He won’t find me easy to stray from the path,

    He won’t drive me from the path,



    It’s time to end this battle once and for all.

    This unnecessary conflict is no contest for I shall end it.
     
  4. Strytho

    Strytho Tactical and Special Ball Breeder

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    A hill top Angel: The Story of Emmeline Grangerford



    Alas what word the world lost that day

    Were talents that were grand.

    In her palm she took her pencil and in her loving way

    Made a final dedication with the work of her own hand.



    On day she did began to sway

    As she began to wilt.

    She tried her luck but every day

    She lies beneath a quilt.



    She used a talent of beyond her age

    To bring memories to those lost.

    And like a sage

    She brought back times that many forgot.



    With the work of her two hands

    She made her family see

    How great and truly grand

    That life could really be.



    But sadly on she lost her health

    She soon fell terribly ill.

    Despite the doctor’s wealth

    Of knowledge she laid still.



    One day the man of death

    Arrived and took away her soul.

    She breathed in one last breathe

    Before the sickness took its toll.



    She died that day not sad

    And surely not alone

    Some people were of course so mad

    The winds of death had blown.



    On top of the hill there lies an angel

    Silent but with great will.

    There rests some one who to death was no stranger

    Right on top of that hill.



    This one was a poem I did in response to part of the book Huckfinn. When I wrote this people thought that I had plaigerized it but I promise you that this is an original. Back then people underestimated my writing skills I guess.
     

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