Category Archives: Poetry English

Love in the Times of Hatred

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Life punches us in the gut with ‘fuck yous,’ hatred cuts us with a million sharp blades—but still we carry on, still we walk, and still we believe in love’s grand power.

Each time that we try to hope,

and each time that we dare to dream

Each time that we hold a rope,

and each time we desire to scream

Life just offers one big ‘fuck you!’,

and punches us right in the gut

Life just throws one big ‘damn you!’,

and treats us like a disowned mutt

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Still we carry on, and still we walk,

believing in love and its grand power

Still we hurry on and still we talk,

while hope burns on a distant, high tower

We place our faith in caring and affection,

but there is one thing that we forget

We put aside any fears of rejection,

but there still exists a dark, deadly threat

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Hatred, that’s what it is called by you and all,

it waits in the darkness, all shadowy and black

Loathing is a terrible ghost that lurks in the hall,

while patience and silence stand back to back

It sneers with an ugly, yellow satisfaction,

and cuts us with a million sharp blades

It fears no revenge and never any reaction,

our blood flows freely and in all shades

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It doesn’t care for affection or for even love,

devastating us and all that we ever possess

It favors only chaos and not a white dove,

leaving behind ashes and just a terrible mess

But still we breathe and still we dream,

believing in the power of love and what it can do

Our hope keeps smiling and riding a sunbeam,

choosing to ignore all, hatred, and loathing too

Murmuring of the Immortal Birds

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He bleeds from a million places but only he sees the blood; he screams with a million faces but only he hears the words—this is what it means to be hunted by the immortal birds.

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Deep within the void I choose to call my heart,

there exists the nucleus of my old and tired soul

It is a desolation, so fierce and so very vast,

a frozen glacier, so very bitter and so very cold

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The harsh chill bites into my creaking bones,

it cuts me from without and also from within

Intense is the pain, so many shades and tones,

twisting my memory and crumpling my skin

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I bleed profusely from a million different places,

yet it is only I who sees the oozing blood

I shout helplessly with a million screaming faces,

no one helps, no one comes to stop the flood

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‘You are cursed forever,’ the words say,

destined to walk alone, the sad path of life

‘To the very end, that is your only way,

a watery grave, a bullet, or maybe a sharp knife’

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‘And why is that so?’ I ask with a weary smile,

while my heart keeps on sinking, down and down

‘Your soul is dark,’ strangely, the answer is so vile,

and your heart is an abandoned ghost town’

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I look within and find all the ghosts smiling,

their faces contorted in agony and in mirth

Their gestures are cruel and all reviling,

demons in pursuit, since my damned birth

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I look around and find myself surrounded,

by the murmurings of all the immortal birds

I look at myself, forever hunted, forever hounded,

their razor-sharp beaks, claws, and harsh words

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The birds are all near, they are almost here,

they are eager to devour my exhausted soul

Their whispers are dreadful, I tremble with fear,

my fate is all done, it has rolled its black scroll

Signing a Pact in Blood with the Devil (Previously, I wish the Devil was real)

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Most people would sell their soul for love; he wants to sell his soul that has already loved, to ensure hers is the life that prospers while his becomes haunted.

A haunting narrative poem structured as an imagined negotiation with the devil, where the speaker offers his soul and broken heart not for personal gain, but to ensure his lost love’s happiness and fortune.

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I wish the devil were here, and I would just kneel

I would sign his contract and make a fair deal

He would laugh in victory, and I would sigh my loss,

he would’ve been so lucky; my wounds would never heal

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I wish the devil were here and asked what I wanted,

I would have asked a favor, which he would’ve just granted

I would have asked for her, joy and good fortune,

my life, au contraire, abandoned and so haunted

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I wish the devil were here and demanded what I offered

‘Take my weary soul,’ I would have just proffered

‘Burn it or torment it, it’s yours to own forever,

or take my tired heart, it’s no more really coffered’

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‘I am not short of souls, their cries fill my hell’

The devil would have snickered, ringing his merry bell

‘But my soul is special, for it has loved and suffered’

I would have begged in anguish, a plea and a yell

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‘A heart is so useless, what purpose will it serve?’

The devil would have said, prodding a raw nerve

‘But my heart is of great value, it’s mended and yet broken,

it has reached its end, but still it throbs with verve’

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‘I like what you offer, let’s both sign this pact,

you get what you want, I will make it all a fact

But you must know it all, and I will make it clear,

you will never love again, and you will only act’

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‘My soul that has loved, to be sold for love’s sake?

My heart that has suffered, to be burnt on the stake?’

I would have cried with joy, I would’ve wept in bliss

‘Let’s sign our pact in blood, please never let it break’