The Poetry Thread

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The Edge
It fills my soul
With endless despair
The Edgehog cometh
In the blackest of night
From whence it came
A realm of darkness
Its eternal suffering
Gives me Edge

Don't hate on my poem, please.

Welcome to Life.
The one you live with strife.
The one that forces you to the edge.
The edge of the knife.
That cuts you deep,
And forces you to weep.
And as you struggle.
Know that you're only a sheep.
Welcome to Life.

Poetry really brings out my dark side.

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by Ajax

/sigh persistence at its best.

The Laughing Mercenary

Never seeming to let things go
Always trying to put on a show.
Tell him something, he takes it to heart,
Must have been sensitive from the start.
At the end of the day, everything's fun,
Having a laugh and chilling in the sun,
But don't say something that makes him upset
or else, on your case, he'll always get.

Hope you two liked my poetry ^.^

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10/10

Would put in a book.

From our departed brother ByOdinsBeard:

What is best in life
What you want, long as you're paid
A good Sumertian

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by Ajax

The Tryhards

Always saying month old replies
Failing so hard the more that he tries
On one's shaft they seem to stay
Like little females who like to play
At the end of the day, all is well
Their minds just rot in their empty shell
It's funny how they bash and yell
But do not let you defend yourself.
Cowardice at full
Weakness at the start
Weak minded fools
With a false sense of heart
But as the days come and go
All you can say is
"You mad bro?"



/bow

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10/10
It fills my heart with Edge.

[Redacted]

SHUT THE FACE
xxxx THE BASE
FORGET THE CASE

not long i guess

A hollow night...
Forged by the dark souls of The Damned,

A sleeping Angel...
Shining bright in the infinite sky,

A lonely soul...
Searching for love day and night,

A pain...
A pain of suffering echoes,

A wound...
The wound of pain shows itself,

A lonely soul...
Slowly decades from the world,

I don't write poetry anymore but I could dig out some of my old poems from high school. I don't think I ever was any good though :P I was an angsty, hopelessly romantic teenager with father issues, and my English still had a lot of room for improvement.

This is the oldest one I've found.



The end of the world
Makes me happy.

That blissful moment,
That infinite second,
That unforgiving wind,
With which the Seven Trumpets sing,
Carries fate on its back
ÔÇöMight take you with a single crack.

This IÔÇÖll never miss
About the apocalypse:

When the land and sea are afire,
When sinners bustle with fearful vigor,
Down comes the awaited hand of God
ÔÇöThe accusing fist of Creation
Now to take back its construction.
This moment is the climax of Life,
The end of peace and the end of strife.
An exhilarating passion courses my body,
My finest hour, I think merrily.

I can taste His finger fold around me
ÔÇöFirst in the air, then everywhereÔÇö
He never doubtsÔÇöhe takes me firmly.
On Earth we leave my body behind,
But I shall, of course, never mind,
ÔÇöTis that moment, the breaking free,
That makes me infinitely happy.

The Seven Trumpets have sung for me.

Baby, baby, baby oooo
Baby, baby, baby oooo

I've been reading a few of my old poems. Damn, I was angsty as f*ck.