Biography of Anthony Degilio
Name is Anthony,19, and loving life. I recently found out I can write some amazing things and have started writing poems and such.... testing myself with what I can do.
I love feedback on everything I write, so please go ahead.
Anthony Degilio Poems
Jewels, gold and gems, oh what strength they posses, Yet only to greed and illusions of avarice must they confess, They can mend broken hearts, though only so little, As to procure a pardon from their lover; unjustified acquittal,
Nature, thy double-edged sword, The serene and peaceful hallowed fjord, Teeming with life and everlasting light, That lasts well into the dark of night,
Scales luminous and talons sharpened, The dragon's vicious roars disheartened, Courageous knights and true-shot archers alike, Staring at the beast with unkempt spite,
A Phoenix's Fire
Thy monstrous beast flew faster with wings afire, Settling on smouldering perches forever higher, Soon it hovers high enough to overlook the earth, Under which lies humanity in its wasteful girth,
Here in nature I sit in thought, Past experiences compared to naught, Beautiful leaves, frail and guilded, Like memories, oh loved and wilted,
Hour Of Ravens
Steady thy blade with haste, Death marches not at low pace, The hour of ravens draw near, Dark moments quickening appear,
A life of freedom, Joy of a sound mind, Innocent by action, Damned by the find,
The harsh cold, Lies always told, Whispers the gale, Tell your tale.
Beautiful as nature and just as serene, Eyes brighter then a thousand lamps of kerosene, Skin so flawless and soft to touch, Like an artistic painting, perfect and such,
Echoes Of Time
Sands of time, winds of fate, Dust to dust, it’s to late, Life’s hourglass draining slowly, Even the praying and the holy,
Dreams, the glorified elements of life, Beauty, love, wealth, and strife, Some can heal and bring great joy, While others may damage and destroy,
Through a hail of bullets and guns blazing, Ran a young man, oh the sight was amazing, Helping his downed comrade back to feet his feet, And flighted him half way down the bombarded street,
The Worst Act
Forgive me for what I have done, Oh blissful morning sun, For I destroyed a love so great, I wish for my painful fate,
Gaze upon thy heavens on this darkness-filled night, For sanctuary will be seen in the beacon of light, However so small that beacon may be, Even so it feels like a dropp in endless sea,
Love, what is it?
Love is but a story,
Ripe with never ending glory,
Though love is a disease,
Killing ever slowly without ease,
It pains the heavy heart,
With a sorrow-tipped dart,
For when the loves ceases and dies,
Your heart, releases helpless cries,