Hell 'Farya

Hell 'Farya Poems

In a town filled with the broken
There was a word left utterly unspoken
A hand that receives with no thanks
A chest that strout about the water banks
...

Wrath, my child,
is a blade designed to be wielded by none.
Come near; I will tell you a story.
...

Dear, Gold Bird.

Do you remember when;
I found you where life kisses death
...

...nd so, In this limerick, we mourn a bass player's fate,
A life barely known, now sealed by death's gate.
From darkness to light
We'll trace his might,
...

...nd so, In this limerick, we mourn a bass player's fate,

At an all white funeral, an old bass player, his fate,
Thrived on words spoken by soothsayers, great.
...

...nd so, In this limerick, we mourn a bass player's fate,

At his last call, an old bass player's wake,
Whose love life had a woeful ache.
...

1.
Buried deep in own thoughts.
Hath there other worlds away from mine,
Dost they know that which I was taught,
...

This two lines tells how much the past of a now dejected old man is influencing his present

I've been gazed on by the seven sky
Where beneath the heavens shall my shame hide.
...

Two lover,
With passions of eternal torment,
Longings of solitude in moment.
One to another,
...

On a branch he perched,
A quiet observer,
Soon he dozed off,
Into the unknown he ventured.
...

11.

A town of cursèd individuals,
Nestled 'midst towering mountains.
In this valley stood a sorcerer,
Bearing a bear-like visage.
...

Take peace
My soul
How love hath made you weary
Take peace
...

I hunged my shawl that morning.
My daily stroll as usual,
Old bones cackled like they were old,
They weren't.
...

..and to think, the anticipation of life and awareness of existence holds within itself the certainty of an eventual cessation
...

They tread amidst the throng, the Other one,
Whose beckoned biddings bend the knee of all.
Yet to their face, what once they were is cast -
No longer that, but something new instead,
...

A man asked, 'Where sprout truth? '
None did answer but a girl.

She said:
...

...Dear John, Joe
You were the fire in action
You watched yourself burn
...

Days are far gone
When kids long for the fathers warmth
Mothers; their child's love
They've been far gone
...

K'olori dà ti ẹ sọ;
Hasn't it always been like this,
The rod used on the forebears,
Lies potent for the successor,
...

In shadows deep, the weepers find their plight,
Their tears, a symphony of sorrow's song.
'The weepers shall be whipped, ' they fear, despite.
...

The Best Poem Of Hell 'Farya

Seven Vices - Pride

In a town filled with the broken
There was a word left utterly unspoken
A hand that receives with no thanks
A chest that strout about the water banks

In that town was a house with a room
Fragranceful as a walk in the tomb
In his heart, he spat at every of them
Forgetting this flesh never stays fresh

He counted coins that weren't his due
Said 'thank you' not, nor 'how are you'
His mirror loved him, his neighbor feared
He called that power, but it disappeared

One night his breath turned cold as stone
He reached for help and found alone
His tower of pride, so tall and steep
Was just a grave he'd dug to keep

But down the road, on broken knees
A different sound moved through the trees
Not a shout, not a boast, not a furious word
Just one small voice the town had heard:

'I am nothing. But nothing can kneel.
And kneeling taught me what is real.'

That voice was humility.
It had no room, no key, no fee.
It slept on floors, it mended nets,
It bore your insult without threats.

And when the proud man's candle died,
The humble one stayed by his side
And whispered this before the grave:
'What pride could not take, love will save.'

So let your chest not strut the banks.
Give thanks in silence. Break no ranks.
For pride leaves ashes, cold and dumb
But the humble rise when the proud have come undone.

Hell 'Farya Comments

Hell 'Farya Quotes

Had it come to mind, that the anticipation of life and awareness of existence holds within itself the certainty of an eventual cessation

'Behind the silk gown, an anvil hid. Wham! ! The rest was history.'

'...So barren holy Màríà, Land so barren...'

'...men like us are wrought with flaw, No hand unmarred, no soul complete.'

Close
Error Success