Immortal Forever Poetry Samples



This poetry is a work in progress. Next to each line I have written the meaning in plain English. The cadence and rhyme of the poem depends on speaking style. One day – perhaps when the poetry is complete – I will make a recording of how I intend it to sound. It is intended that each line be written on the page prior to each new chapter, part or book – not as a whole in any one place in the book. The prose has no title, though if I was to give one maybe it would be something like “Regret and Anger of Being Immortal Forever

Places to be yet never seen, (places that we can only dream of)
Amid the blue skies a bleeding red stream. (A lovely place but with a dreadful bloody past)
Towers of life with a tower of death, (tall buildings alongside tall monuments to the dead)
No mortal can recall when my heart has been. (no living person knows the immortals)

Let me sleep for a thousand years. (I just want to sleep, disappear for a long time)
So tired, to run from the burning sun, (tired of the night – dreaming of walking in daylight, which would kill us)
and a long ceased breath.  (wishing to be breathing and alive again)
With blood red tears, into the day we have never seen. (I cry awful blood tears, never having experienced the day)

Of places we imagine, yet only unseen, (places that we can only dream of)
A torture unlike the deep night we’ve carefully done. (we have done the night, but wish for the day which would bring torture)
Still waters of blood and the stench of death, (the still streams hold the rotting corpses and stench of death to us – we remember)
Where you once smiled – this never-ending dream. (yet in our human life I remember you as we played by the stream. It is now but a dream)

No friend nor kin we have ever been, (friends and kin have long passed leaving us alone and entirely beyond their history and thoughts)
As moths to the light, the dead come to that bleeding red stream. (it seems that us immortals are attracted to these bloody streams/pain and death are unavoidable to us)
Those hills and those mounds, we have our death, (the immortals we are come from these hills – kurgans – where our dead rest)
Revenge shall be ours, a heart no longer beating. (For our immortality we seek revenge upon those who have beating hearts)

© Kaden Brown. All rights reserved 2015.


Lord Byron’s The Giaour (1813):

But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent:
Then ghostly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;

There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corpse:
Thy victims ere they yet expire
Shall know thy demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.


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