Rising Rage
morning gets wise, and
does not spill the sun.
And the dead will not
come back to celebrate
the dark after the rage.
There, on the white peaks,
the splattered blood will
draw the face of assassin.
Do not enter the dome of
seething screams. The priest
hangs by the bell.
O, my brother, why we
have become coldblooded after
thousand years of pilgrimage?
New Poems
-
Song of the Radiant Phoenix
Written by Oscar Auliq-Ice -
Whispers of a Wooden Wonder
Written by Oscar Auliq-Ice -
Whispers Beneath the Cosmic Veil
Written by Oscar Auliq-Ice -
Serenades of the Silent Night
Written by Oscar Auliq-Ice -
Shadows of a Forbidden Moon
Written by Oscar Auliq-Ice
Latest Activity
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Song of the Radiant Phoenix"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Whispers of a Wooden Wonder"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Whispers Beneath the Cosmic Veil"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Serenades of the Silent Night"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Shadows of a Forbidden Moon"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Echoes in the Stars"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Shadows of Tomorrow"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Dancing in the Moonlit Night"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Dawn of New Dreams"
- Oscar Auliq-Ice wrote a poem "Whispers from Yesteryears"