Thea Pound

Thea Pound Poems

Nothing but a cold darkness here,
Since the sun died out;
Just ruthless dreams of a hopeless hope,
A cruel fate, framed by doubt.


Let us wear a mask of calm,
Below the surface seething,
No flicker can show, no eyes may glow,
Steady my rhythm of breathing.

Is it not so, That we have fallen,
Almost deafened to The Calling,
Our cenotaph, such great glass columns,
In the urban jungle Sprawling.

I wear a face, when I step outside.
A mask. Persona. I am not myself.
I seem calm; nothing touches me.
The barrier waivers. The mask smiles on.

Devour me, my love;
I desire to never part from you,
I desire to be a part of you,
And only you. Always.

Macabre are my verses;
Have you ever wondered why,
I always speak of heurses,
And those destined to die?

This is my stronghold,
Where I contain my fears,
To hide that which has haunted me,
And festered through the years;

It fractures at even the lightest touch,
My aspirations cast in crystal glass;
Precious pieces turned to razors,
Delicate dreams not built to last.

They sharpen up the blades,
And scheme their bitter schemes,
They spread malice and lies,
For those with different dreams.

Another night in this grim city;
A monster out there walking,
Engrossed deep in your vices,
And with the victim you are stalking.

There's a dragon sleeping,
Within my soul concealed,
There he waits, impatient,
For his chance to be revealed;

Here there burns a fire,
That cannot be tamed,
There's far too much repressed,
That dances in the flames;

I was ready to tear the stars from the sky,
And cast the to the ground below,
But there you were, take take my hands,
And guide me to let go.

How sweet the days that long have passed,
How warm the fond memory,
Before the dice of fate were cast,
Before sorrow sought company.

What am I, but what time forgot,
But an echo from your past?
What am I but a shadow,
Of dreams once forged from glass?

The die of fate will soon be cast,
Soon I will fly my cage,
Your system was not built to last,
And won't survive my rage.

Not so long ago,
There was an oath I swore,
That I would raise the people up,
And become judgement's sword;

Who am I, you ask?
Antinomian nature, battling tirelessly,
With antithetical reflections.
Views and emotions without balance,

Rising like knives, the glistening spires,
Reflecting the city; a hall of mirrors,
A resonant din from mechanical choirs,
Weaving roadways growing narrower, nearer;

I must believe in His voice. I must believe.
No matter what, I cannot let myself doubt,
Because in this world, stranger things can - and must - happen;
If I can believe in his voice (A million to one chance) ,

Thea Pound Biography

Thea " Hughes" Pound is an aspiring poet and novel writer, from the south coast of England, where she lives with her sister. She has a taste for the more macabre side of life, and favours political, pseudo-religious and existentialist themes. Her preferred styles of poetry are rhyming or freeform. She is twice published in the Anthologies released by Forward Poetry, and is an active user of Poetry websites.)

The Best Poem Of Thea Pound

Darkness Yields The Brightest Light

Nothing but a cold darkness here,
Since the sun died out;
Just ruthless dreams of a hopeless hope,
A cruel fate, framed by doubt.
The whispers urge me in the shade,
To never surrender the ideal,
But even entrapped in celestial claws,
I cannot escape what is real.

In solemn solitude, what is there left?
Is anything worth the fight?
The dreams I have dreamt cannot be achieved,
Not by one so consumed by the night.
But it dawns that I am not devoured;
Just frayed at the edges, it seems,
For if I could accept finality,
How could I still hold these dreams?

Wrapped in these velvety shadows,
I feel the fire deep in my flesh,
For my hopes and dreams cannot be slain,
Not ever while I still draw breath.
Though they may call me deluded,
My work has only begun;
For I will take aim at the heavens,
And I will ignite the new sun.

Thea Pound Comments

Thea Pound Quotes

True seekers search not for the end of the road, but the road itself; for the journey itself creates wisdom.

All 'Paradoxes' are ordained by The Divine.

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