Poems About Love And War (Alexandrine Poetry)

Your silence dances (Alexandrine Poetry)

Your like for me a small much more than absolutely nothing indicates,

Although really like as sense of self might be, than mine, much less powerful,

Although thrill of adore may well maintain the discomfort on withered greens

And evening of dreams is really like a teared and jerking song.

Your silence dances which means's words on face's frown,

My eye of winter follows stream of light on sky,

Erratic flow of painful words by stripping down

Their sense of which means sounding adore a sad 'good bye'.

With red unfolded kisses thrilling white delight,

The moon replaces missing sun with all about.

It tends to make me dance my will in dreams' abstract on height.

It tends to make me really feel the adore once more and heals my wound.

The War

An invisible black hiatus of sadness,

An eerie silence as an immense void,

No beacon of hope in this sad badness,

Hate leaving numerous spaces destroyed,

Bloody war taking up as well a great deal space,

Victims stumbling on a rocky path of life,

Curving fates shyly lifting with sad grace,

Quantum really like attempting to dissipate the strife,

Cold death maintaining the ideology of war,

Winners covering themselves with glory,

Dramatic consequences attempting to ignore,

Their considering becoming increasingly gory.

In A Adore Dawn

Thou came to me at that dawn

Getting such gorgeous blue eyes.

The appreciate I felt was just a mirage.

Thou looked enjoy a blonde angel,

But thy sadness was really human.

I heard that sadness and the loss.

Thy name was the name of a king.

The light of a candle started to shine

Inside the space of our woeful souls.

There, His loving eyes met our tears.

The pulsation coming from that star

And the beat of our hearts became

A single in the intoning voices of like.

Evil Earths (Horror Poetry)

Screaming voices shattering the inner mirror of really like

Clattering to nothingness, looking freedom in space,

Bloody songs tightly warping their blue heaven above

In the thin and chill air disappearing with no a trace,

O'er sad whispers, wind whipping by means of the wounds

For the symphony of demons' dreams as a veil disguise,

Bloody voices needing to construct up stomping grounds,

Buried danger sprouting out to preserve developing in size,

The salty tears of liquid souls forming watery waves,

Beauties in red waiting to face on their worry of death,

Nonetheless screaming even though drowning in the cold watery graves,

Tearing the silence with their groan and bleeding breath.

Marieta Maglas