Submissions by melethril_edhellen (Melethril Edhellen)

If you believe that poetry is dead and gone,
Then try to bury each poet one by one,
I doubt you'd find a land to fit us all,
For even you are one, though words may often fall.
Your feelings speak, far from ears yet somehow near,
Unseen but living, never to disappear.

If you believe my words are aged and worn,
Then press them into vinyl, let them mourn,
And I shall dwell on each and every tone,
For if you hear the dulcet heavens’ own,
You, dear one, would not dare to silence swift
The words you spoke with reckless, careless drift. ...

Through many a book have I heard tales of East,
Of myths wrought by this wondrous beast,
A creature, if it chooses not to show its might,
Shall remain hidden from the keenest sight.

When wrapped in gold, it blends with treasure's light,
Becoming one with radiance, pure and bright.
And when in silver’s gleam it seeks to hide,
It shimmers like a sword by warrior’s side.

They say it hides to shield from harm and pain,
But I believe it cloaks from cruel disdain.
A shield it dons from harsh and cutting tongues,
Concealing true...

In darkest night, when moon does hide its face,
And skies lay bare, devoid of light's grace,
Where shadows dance like creatures from a distant land,
Oh, tiny star, do you feel forsaken, unmanned?

Oh, star of eve, do you feel the yearning deep,
In places of eldritch lore, where mystery gently sleep?
Does your radiant glow, amidst the darkened sky,
Dwells unseen, unappreciated by any eye?

Little star, shed not your tears in pain,
Yet should tears come, let the dark light drain,
Release your sorrows, let them fall,
And let it...

It's hardly seen by those who hurry past,
Oblivious to the wonders that outlast,
Beneath the layers of the forest floor,
Where secrets lie, awaiting to explore.

It’s barely held in reverence, I tell,
Except by hearts that with nature's pulse dwell,
They march with care upon the mossy ground,
Where the earth's song can be found.

I wager it could scarce maintain its form,
Against the winds that rage, against the storm,
Beneath the feet of those who pass it by,
Their gaze averted, to the earth they spy.

But...

Beneath the icy grasp, it chilled,
Frost on bridges laid, in silence faced.
The timber, warm and brown, now suffocates,
Under snow's cruel hold, it contemplates.

It chilled, the path ahead obscured,
Each step on ancient wood, death's whispers lured.
Though strong it seems, my foot shall not be placed,
On bridges fraught with fears, life not disgraced.

It chilled, with eerie dread, the crunch below,
Upon the frosty deck, my fears aglow.
Not stand, nor march I’d dare,
In ice, though light of hope, bare.

‘Till, at...