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Imperial Official
At my new office, paid
to hate, I am full
of sword and torch.
Poèmes sur le thème : hatred
Poèmes sur le thème « hatred » sur Poets.by.
Aphelion
i wish i could hate you
because hatred moves mountains and ends lives
in a frantic, desperate blaze no one can stop
but fear shackles me to the ground
begging for the end
and all i have is a spark of what could've been
No
To like
to love
to fall down
and get up
To sing
to cry
to wish you could fly away
To hate
to scream
to find happiness in only dreams
To smile
away tears
and along with it fears
To leap
of faith
to cowered away from mere little events
｡: bad :｡
It's getting bad again,
The feelings I had thought gone have resurfaced,
The thoughts I once had are back again,
And the way I view the world has once again become a blur of hatred,
A maze I'm just trying to escape.
narcissist
I am the only narcissist
Who is obsessed
With hating myself
blanket
I wrapped myself in a blanket
Full of hateful words
And terrible thoughts
And called it 'home'
99 (Emperor) Gotoba-no-In
For some men I grieve.
Some men I hate!
And this wretched world
To me, weighted down with care,
Is a place of misery.
Helen
All Greece hates
the still eyes in the white face,
the lustre as of olives
where she stands,
and the white hands.
All Greece reviles
the wan face when she smiles,
hating it deeper still
when it grows wan and white,
remembering past enchantments
and past ills.
Greece sees unmoved,
God’s daughter, born of love,
the beauty of cool feet
and slenderest knees,
could love indeed the maid,
Hatred
I shall hate you
Like a dart of singing steel
Shot through still air
At even-tide.
Or solemnly
As pines are sober
When they stand etched
Against the sky.
Hating you shall be a game
Played with cool hands
And slim fingers.
Your heart will yearn
For the lonely splendor
Of the pine tree;
While rekindled fires
In my eyes
Amanda Barker
Henry got me with child,
Knowing that I could not bring forth life
Without losing my own.
In my youth therefore I entered the portals of dust.
Traveler, it is believed in the village where I lived
That Henry loved me with a husband’s love
But I proclaim from the dust
That he slew me to gratify his hatred.