Despair Poems

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
...

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
...

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
...

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
...

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no
No question was asked me--it could not be so !
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try
And to live on be YES; what can NO be ? to die.
...

Self lost in obsessive agony,  
Your primal passion - a flaming ferocity,  
The raging fire consumes your dignity,  
And shame is put to slumber.
...

Then what is the answer?- Not to be deluded by dreams.
To know that great civilizations have broken down into violence,
and their tyrants come, many times before.
When open violence appears, to avoid it with honor or choose
...

Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.
...

I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
...

A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
...

Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist -- slack they may be -- these last strands of man
In me {'o}r, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
...

Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
...

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
...

This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
...

Who is he?
A railroad track toward hell?
Breaking like a stick of furniture?
The hope that suddenly overflows the cesspool?
...

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.
It establishes the universal ideas in language,
...

.
the ghosts are walking again
walking and talking in the night again
sorrow is eating my bones again
...

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
...

He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
Silk threads wherewith sly Cupid strings his bow,
My cheek a rose leaf fallen on new snow;
And swore my round, full throat would bring despair
...

Introduction;

Darkness settles in the corners of my mind,
A cacophony of voices, yelling, screaming, crying,
...

In the depths of night, where shadows creep,
A haunting presence, a secret to keep,
A tale of darkness, of despair and pain,
In this Gothic realm, where souls remain.
...

Dark cloak fluttering

In the heavens a shout
...

DESPAIR 

Suddenly, this clutching feeling renders me frozen in time, as I lay helpless; despair hovers over me as it makes its descend. ClaimIng me as her own she begins to quickly ravish the most tender of devotions leaving nothing behind.
...

I find myself agreeing a lot with Goethe lately…
yes, I think it would be fair
to say I spend as much time on top of the world…
as I do floundering in the depths of despair.
...

June 19,2018 at 10: 40 a.m.; June 20 at 11: 48 a.m.; June 25 at 9: 28 a.m.; Wednesday afternoon, July 4,2018 at 4: 58 p.m.;
then Tuesday morning, September 13,2022 at 9: 12 a.m.; then at 11: 53 a.m.

"Not truth but each other."
...

The despair of nothing to write
Except writing about nothing to write
The despair of repetition
Of saying again and again
...

I scooped hoops of hope in my hand
By volition took a stand
In spite of struggles I fought
To bring despair and its flare to nought.
...

With despair all around
Even a little Hope sparks life
It becomes Elixir to revive
That dead vein in the heart's strife.
...

Imperfect Sonnet
by Michael R. Burch

A word before the light is doused: the night
...