Barbarian yell




Justice is descending into black
like a creaky coffin.
The invisible hand of the wind
entangled justice in darkness…
I felt the mist breath
of Those who can be easily led astray.
With the uncanny manoeuvre of a lover,
greed is seducing lost souls,
and the barbarian yell
rips its salacious blade
into wounded justice…
THEY…they wake up
from the tombs of their spirits
when the moon is full.
Under the disguise of charity
they peek throught the windows of souls...;
They are always feverish
and the shadows of life depart into darkness again.
From up above,
a curse descended
like the cursed Dutchman's ship bell
and way down,
in the cursed swamps,
The Northern Cross of the lost souls is flaming…
Everything was the same as yesterday:
In hell,days and nights are alike as twins
like a long trail of nothingness.

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Submitted on August 22, 2016

Modified on March 05, 2023

43 sec read
1

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCDEFGHIJDKLMNHOPQRISTUFVD
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 793
Words 143
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 27

Walter William Safar

BIOGRAPHYWALTER WILLIAM SAFAR was born on August 6th 1958 in Sherman-Texas . He is the author of a number of a significant number of prose works and novels, including "Leaden fog", "Chastity on sale", "In the flames of passion", "The price of life", "Above the clouds", "The infernal circle", "The scream", "The Devil’s Architect”, "Queen Elizabeth II", as well as a book of poems.Many times, while escaping the real world, I used to find my sanctuary in the blissful chest of mother Art. With these poems, I am curing the hungry soul, and it hungers for compassion, love and faith, just like any human soul does.Hungry and thirsty, I am staring into the very heart of the dark spirit of my own subconscious, and I would feel betrayed for who knows how many times, only to appease my thirsty soul with a torrent of tears, because poetry is like a tear on the face of mankind.I don't know much about victories, but I am sure of one thing, that compassion is a victory of the human spirit. I wrote these Poems on an old typewriter, which I inherited from a late American writer. This wise, good man used to read poems to me when I was a kid, saying that I too will read my poems to other people, but first I shall roam the world searching for myself.I admit I no longer have the will or power to roam around, but I haven’t lost the will to write poetry. All I want is to share my poems with the whole world.THE CAPTAINImagination is the timeless sail of all words,And words only float without it,Like a windjammer without wind.Without imagination,There are no journeysInto unexplored worlds,Because the world is but a boundless ocean of desires. more…

All Walter William Safar poems | Walter William Safar Books

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