Departing poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of departing poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on departing are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Among my Father’s gifts that keep giving I see less and less of the living. I find art that will never, be given to us again ever. Blue plaques and statues confirm their passage. Blues and bad news can’t hide
The sun seemed to lose its warmth and The Clouds grey and white, were busy Occupying places all over, adjusting Themselves like a piece on a puzzle board. A season, I tell you, it was a season of departures. A
We make the rejected Love occupy our whole heart , while We ignore the true Love enacting from her heart We dream fantasy and console ourselves for the snubbed Love , while We shatter her dreams and show scant respect
Tribute – on his Birth I stepped into the evening Of my life and lost interest in living And thought of leaving This wild world. I was waiting To see my grand son arriving Into this wicked world smiling Before
Eveline sits lonely by her window, Gazing out to see the day, Golden sunshine greets her woe, She wishes she didn’t have to stay, A gentle tear lands along her breast, Cascading from her emerald eyes, Like a bird departing
THE WHIRLING STORM OF EVIL From the dark recluse in my thatched mud hut I barricaded myself; with the palm of my hands pressing tightly against my ears, vainly trying to shut out the mournful tune of the dirge playing
“What is it that makes you flabbergasted, my dear mortal? This isn’t for the first time you’ve been throttled by the fear of demise” says the death angel while ripping apart my bones. “Why am I still remain, to you,
11 There is living after death, there is death before life, Ordinary living which is in scrambles of destituteness, Destituteness of idealism, of knowledge meaningful, of utter candidness. Dull realities of weeds, weeds of rampant ignorance, averment Of void words,
The time of youth maintained its presence , Never move and detaches the young to the old, The memories of spring clouding the vision of departing days, here the wine flowed, the cup filled to its brim, celebrate the old
In my trials and tribulations Be they however great I’ll forever own the splendor In the sanctity of faith You, my precious God Are my hope, guide and way Throughout this realm of ruin Where I patiently remain You amplify
Bent tree, drooping branches, wilting leafs aged from time Knurled fingered, hands wrinkled much like mine. Skin browned and aged spots, Face cracked and crevassed, Sagging skin from sun and time. We are old and that is fine, we’ve aged
I’m practicing to write alternate rhyme, Heroic quatrains is the other name; I like the way the simple verses chime, And faintly echo like a song’s refrain. I took the air, rather hale and hearty, I thought I’d have a
Once on Easter, I wished lord Jesus: Oh Christ, I want a beautiful land and lots of goodness with glorious sand let the sand be of any brand but there should be no discrimination in your land for several lever
It’s not like, I did not have a choice… But I’m trying to subdue, My innermost voice…! I know intuitions, Show us the way… But this time, I’m not going to sway…!! Because there is nothing, Mortally I can do..
The Jester Retrieving a book from the calmness of its nook Opening to illustrated pages to be read by children of all ages There before me was the Jester in full color and bright what a sight From the open
We found the kid outside of McCleary walking in a daysuit like some land owner off some nineteenth-century hacienda he got in the car stinking of moss and unwashed armpits there were at least two kinds of fluff in his
Perplexed sagacity asked The desirous heads Why foreheads seek to bow before what and created places to do so concept tired to form any image As it cannot Boundless can never be confined to boundaries Limited resources of mind are
O Matchless Artist ! The Creator or genius scientist. You capture my heart with awesome wondering, And surprises, full of applauding. When I see those multimillion varieties of pretty flowers, I marvel at your marvellous designs. O perfect designer———–! You
O light, where liveth thee? O light, darkness kills me. O light, will you ever come? O light, you only seek some. O light, why does dark haunt me in your presence? O light, go away, you have no essence.
When something exists, the opposite does too Black and white, hot and cold, old and new Love and hate, heaven and hell, left and right North and South, peace and war, day and night To give, to fix, to begin,
Life just keeps ticking on sans any rancor so to say On face all seems perfect with core in utter dismay Apathy tried attempting and walls I built around Now jab at susceptibility my old despair compound Past zest needs
You are peeling me off like a crab. Time has sunk very low. For the hungry kids who was growing crab apples? Creating art, arriving between the pubes. A microfossil roosting within me. I could live without oxygen. Incandescent, the
My mind is flooded and his brain is blooded. schooled to just Google the truth about the youth and the proof about the loot. The crimes of the times but we were not schooled for the crimes of the heart.
I didn’t really notice her, to start with, A girl with too shaped hair and clothes beyond her years It wasn’t right, clearly not right Medieval in some respects An heir and a spare her task But a fairy-tale danced
A tiny little bee buzzing on a tree flutters its wings inspecting every flower for the divine nectar! A tiny little ant scurries its way waving its feelers inspecting every particle if it is its food! A chirping little sparrow
Her eyes widened, Not once did I stop to notice that this was the first time These words came from my mouth. Through action yes but never once did I stop to pay attention that I’ve never said it before.
Through the stormy desert Your thirst staggered for days, And ends up sipping Fresh experiences as consolation. An ocean of memories inside heart Constantly combust like wild flames, Yet seems so peaceful Like the rough skin of an extinct volcano.
love starts from something but people think it’s nothing love has a beautiful charm but there is no love without harm love is very pleasant every day is like an event love changes the weather in love people spread their
Light, with an unclear vow of dragging me out of my inner demons, came, I, with a yearning eye embraced it, eliminating the notion of it, being a crooked game. The demons that swirl inside me, and the humble whisperings
It was a complete disaster. I will listen to moon tonight, while writing your name on bikini top, holding the pigeons. The birds had abandoned the walnut tree in haste. Between them can you see a butchered image of little
Since all it began and people learnt; Since man got his name And gained all those earthly fame- The same history has been repeated again and again- Both good and bad; both hard and rapt; The blood, the blood- sometimes