My poems are not very happy poems. In fact, they're depressing. Now, this does not mean that I am a depressed person. Because I'm not. So anyway, this is what I've got on here so far. I've sort of stopped writing, so there's not much new stuff to put on here.

Doomed

Doomed are the people
And the loved lost
The lost not be found
The day turned to dusk

The stars can't be wished on
The moon is no more
The earth turned to dust
And the sun, a black hole

The species, endangered
The sky is afire
The mountains are valleys
And the water is oil

The evil has struck
But it can become worse
The one that has saved you
Can save you no more

All hope is lost
Only evil remains
There's not one who's alive
Who knows you're still there

Ok, there's a problem with these next poems. I have the final copies of them somewhere, I just can't find them. Therefore, if they're not good enough for you, then you can be sure that there are better versions somewhere out there. *nervous smile*

Foretold

From
inside
it burns
the light

Many
years
and centuries
old

Waiting
it is
to be
discovered

By the
one
so long
foretold

Now the
world
it surges
with evil

It is
time
the one
was born

From afar
she
was
found

Fighting
against
the endless
cold

She
went out
to save
the world

The light
told
Don't go
alone

The journey
begins
the light
burns bright

Inside
the
one
foretold

Cold Light

Swiftly, a flash from the corner ignites
So coldly the ice blue light glows
A shadow, the source
Known not what it is
A tall form, it'looks almost human

The claw-like hands mold the tints and the shades
But still that same ice blue remains
It lights up the room
Faintly, but there
To see all the secrets within

With the same shock, the light, it goes out
The figure is no longer seen
You shut the door
With fear in your throat
The secrets, they have been revealed

Dust

Born from the dust, hardened by stone
The great warrior came forth
Throught the ages of death and destruction
The higher beings were born

Without thought, they took over our world
Without sweat, they defeat what we can't

From the dust, a warrior cries
A battle cry from deep within
Deep within the past he bore
Screaming atop that mound of dirt
That which before had been his home

Now, I know that isn't all my poems. There are more. I just have to find them. These are the best I think. So sue me if you don't like them....Well, don't sue me. Just ignore them or something. Back Home