Bomber poems bring the best collection of short and long bomber poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great bomber rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these bomber poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on bomber are here for you.
To find a safe god he traveled inside the books to develop the tradecraft of winning the world. Fog squinted from the sky and elite sun waited in the lobby. Steel-pellets, flesh and body parts will follow, to nip the
A distraught moon takes a misstep and goes behind the hill to take a holy bath. Disconnects with a trespasser and sends to night, a bouquet of stars with muffled prayers. Shades of lies haunt, in flames of faith. A
Pigments on rocks were darkening. Violence had permeated like skunk. Enough to go numb. Stream of blood. Entire limbs were missing. You want to go insane, deoxygenated. The bomber was going to face a firing squad. Were you ready to
To slice a hope in stark terror he thought to bid holy goodbye to destiny, and let himself go in the shadow of weeping deads. The orange moon looked mutilated. Quietly stood a suicide bomber, ready to get killed for
Was it a summer storm of sexuality? Only the chaste statue stood in threads, and then went down the cuticle with nipple rings. The demand of namelessness was rising in the dim shadows of brisk tones. To step down from
It is. An explosive denial of an infinite firmness of round orbs. Why were you taking off your shirt to show the scars? it stirs a sequestered allegation. The glare was on my days and your nights. The suicide bomber
Standing in a milk line you were talking of depravity, of blood lines and the breast enhancement. A teenage fringe bomber wants to sew the civil society and explodes himself before the empty bakery. A young gal throws her son
When hope returns, will you be in alternative mind? Like a praying mantis brooding for a prey in a bowl of momentum while I have a sense of alienation collecting a cloud of Memories ripping open the gates of tears
More powerful than a sword it feels, One way flow, the only flow Can be controlled, can’t be too. Tactfully used, it can take you far Rashly used, it will take you down. Though easy maintenance, use it sparse. Far
I was surprised To see that person Busy with repairing Old things in his shop. Smart and courageous From face to his heart Respect towards customers With a calm and smiley face. How powerful and energetic His thought to self
On 11July, 1994 a legacy was born Holding lovely roses without any thorn Lighting many caves which were forever dark; With Cherian, Anandi and Varsha named spark. Though small and fragile earlier in nature She never let any student see
I had a very close friend that once disappeared She’d gone missing a long time, for many years Fled one night to another state far away And hid incognito somehow to stay She left suddenly with her tow-headed daughter and
April ushers the summer here A period we all fear. Sweltering heat takes its toll, Dissuading any, from a stroll. The streaming rays in the morn, Heralds a warm dawn, Another steaming day, I reckon, As the days beckon. But
That is how I’ll remember you… With the dimpled cheeks and the cheeky grin. Forever nudging the awkwardness away from introverts like me. Laughing, cracking jokes and discussing the likelihood of Trump becoming the next American President, all in one
Its not new to the world, Its rather the most cold, Rage, urge and need, With all insane greed. She was there tired and weak, Too tired to speak. She didn’t know wat just happened, Now the known voices is
I am ﬂesh and blood and feelings Amongst other things.. But I am ﬁrst and most importantly ﬂesh.. skin, bones, muscles, blemishes, pimples, scars freckles, moles, and dry skin and blood – running through my veins, gushing out of scraped
Walking through the woods at night Not sure where I’m at The darkness I’m looking into Is overpowering A faint light from the sky Surges shyly through the blackness. But not sufficient for me To see where I am going
When pinch of godly emotions diluted Into optical fusion of matted commotions And the whole concealed constellation Beguiled its proclaim in dismal dismay, Gurgling upsurges fused with a shy smile Amidst the mute chambers of heavy heads. Nothing like bleak
Radio blares incoherent songs people speak excitedly about music billboards advertise wares there are outlets everywhere the lights are bright and night still young and the road never ends… There is a girl in silhouette a woman with torn
The poet takes the fall The ballads turn to the darkest alibis The bottles’ staring at me Emptied faster than they could sing The sorrows’ in the sky Clouded thoughts reigning from within The memory of your touch Buried in
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.
There was a strange carnality in flowing robes, a waiver penetrates in incorporeal ellipse. I must speak of him in his absence combating for the actuality. Knowing lust manifolds, yields a prayer, primrose opens the eyes. The knowledge liberating –
Often kith and kin friends and relatives kids and aged would meet either in functions or in funerals of the dead The smiles, the laughs the Ecstasy the warmth, the affection are all there to be seen when participating in
I want the same love again but something is there that resists, I think its the type of life I had ,revolving around everyday’s new twist, Hoping all to be fine I need someone to assist, Again bring that bright
I went to see the Louvre Thousand paintings but a good few Hundreds of people roaming here and there But not a single friend like you.. Happy,sad,blessed moments We had the pictures framed upon these walls Each picture saying something
Vexed at a long sit in, after collision we will meet at a canal in the watery grave. You believed in philosophy of giving I would apologize for the slaughter of babies. Pink dolls I wished to know why they
Our central nervous system together with all its neuron cells make up our brains and spinal cords And with it all our emotions and feelings which signal when there is something wrong with us That is how a mother can
‘T’was a fine morning when she cameMy cherished passion and true flameA moment I can hardly waitAlong this road and near the gateShe walks in grace and flawless styleA breathtaking sight when she smileThat leaves was turned from dark to
The only big struggle Is for money bristle Finishes like a bubble When we see Sin puddle. Is this so thing doddle? Actually it is a circle Vicious; none to fiddle As it makes one nuzzle In their cozy castle.
A short poem …on fledgling dreamy Love. An enchanting world of two beings, Where exist blissful feelings An Elysian world of love and care Made for that perfect pair… There disaster wouldn’t dare to knock For love shall eliminate any
Well now and I’m Going for the Gold Not standing in the shadows Giving it my heart and soul Up the mountain, down the road New found determination, no Competition, first edition Not standing, not standing In the shadows ‘cuz
The sea claims, here you are at my door. Leave behind the bustling streets. Walk up to me, pardon my storminess. Bury your feet in my sand and close your eyes. I shall salve you of endless perplexity and unrest.