Poetry Collection No. 2
This is a collection of poetry with a similar tone and feel to it. I had to put them together because I suck at writing long poetry. Enjoy.
Winter's Wald
Trees bow, crack and break
In the silence of a winter's mourn
The crimson-covered snow of ages past.
The smokey eyes of the dead
Slumber to the cry of a Lapwing.
Spirits lost in the cold.
Death's Dance.
A cold winte r wind
whispers softly
through a snow-covered tundra
Dead and frozen
Branches sway to her haunting song
The plucking of strings
Sounds of Ivory keys
Dancing the waltz with mother north.
I sit and listen
Their grainy sounds crackling through the gramophone
The fireplace flickers,
Death offers his hand
I close my eyes and smile
It's cold touch.
Crawling into my bones.
I'm gone.
Together forever
We dance into the night.
LIBERTY!
For Liberty! they cry; Lines take aim.
White smoke, Young bodies scattered
across crimson and green farm fields.
Painted like gruesome Christmas trees.
The blood was always there.
Forward they march. A finger wag.
Seen and not heard, Woman!
Do as you're told, Black man!
Pick cotton, Irish man!
Out of the way, Indian!
Death to Tyrants! they call...
The white man steps to the podium and waves.
to the filth-covered masses.
No crown, but crowned.
A tyrant gone, tyranny still.
Ash and Dust
Cry through smoke-stung eyes.
Ash and dust, my life. Darkness.
The souls withered husk.
Fallen Warriors
Cold embrace of fall,
A Valkyries song on high.
Death comes for us all.
Winter Wind
A cold winter's wind.
Whispers softly through the trees.
Life, frozen and dead.
About the Creator
Nicholas R Yang
An Archaeologist and aspiring Doctor, I am a part-time writer from the East Coast of Canada. Written multiple plays, poems, and short stories. Currently has a single published work, available through Amazon Canada. "Musings From The Other"
Keep reading
More stories from Nicholas R Yang and writers in Poets and other communities.
You, nah
I need you, and your hands in mine. I need to see your late summer dusk filled eyes, shades of grey and blue that nature can barely imitate. Listen to you telling me to protect my hearing, when I need the music cranked to 11 and I turn the volume down; realizing your voice is all I need to hear.
By Jake Trammell7 days ago in Poets
The Gen Z Entrepreneurial Revolution
It is hardly debatable that the world has always been run by a bunch of aging dinosaurs, mostly male, who refuse to allow the younger generation to bring about changes. Politicians and leaders everywhere refuse to release the reigns of creativity and leadership until they are dead or dying. It is time to give the young a chance to revolutionize and change the entire landscape of their existence. Those of us with one foot in the grave, so to speak, should wake up and realize that we are not the ones who will be living in the world in the years to come.
By Novel Allen6 days ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.