- Joined
- Sep 6, 2015
- Messages
- 576
I've just found out this forum exists on Hive, so I thought I should share some of my poetry written in English (it's not my mother tongue) with you and see what you think. I have more poems in English, and I may post some more later. The poem is on DeviantArt also: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Rotten-World-591407461
“The Rotten World”
The essence of this world is rotten to the core.
The essence of the rot is based around the four
Horsemen of apocalypse are herding, culling men.
Blinded by their greed the ones who live are dead
In their blunted minds the horsemen aren't a threat -
“Long live the technology and human is a pest!”
Sinners break their sins hard against the wall.
The ones who haven't sinned will be taken in the toils
Drinking from the wells of poisonous tinfoils.
Bespattering their tongues, sullage will be for
Medicine mistaken when fresh water is no more.
Remembered then will be the cherished days of yore
When water spirits didn't scream: “Our life you did abhor!”
The climax then will come and the world will step in fire.
For the ire of the tongues will not speak of desire
But of dangers lurking there where no man dares to sleep.
The hell will be on Earth, and the heaven in the deep
For humankind its roots in the greatest couldn't keep.
It killed the call within to scent the final reek.
Though air will breathe a new life
Into death when humans
Find their way through fume's night.
Aching out of pain
On Earth will fall the rain
Which will heal the wounds
Of our ancient womb
And our silent tomb
Which held us all together
Speeding through the nether.
Save it all for later
And life shall sprout greater!
“The Rotten World”
The essence of this world is rotten to the core.
The essence of the rot is based around the four
Horsemen of apocalypse are herding, culling men.
Blinded by their greed the ones who live are dead
In their blunted minds the horsemen aren't a threat -
“Long live the technology and human is a pest!”
Sinners break their sins hard against the wall.
The ones who haven't sinned will be taken in the toils
Drinking from the wells of poisonous tinfoils.
Bespattering their tongues, sullage will be for
Medicine mistaken when fresh water is no more.
Remembered then will be the cherished days of yore
When water spirits didn't scream: “Our life you did abhor!”
The climax then will come and the world will step in fire.
For the ire of the tongues will not speak of desire
But of dangers lurking there where no man dares to sleep.
The hell will be on Earth, and the heaven in the deep
For humankind its roots in the greatest couldn't keep.
It killed the call within to scent the final reek.
Though air will breathe a new life
Into death when humans
Find their way through fume's night.
Aching out of pain
On Earth will fall the rain
Which will heal the wounds
Of our ancient womb
And our silent tomb
Which held us all together
Speeding through the nether.
Save it all for later
And life shall sprout greater!
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