Dystopian poems bring the best collection of short and long dystopian poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great dystopian rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these dystopian poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on dystopian are here for you.
Never, in all the pointless days I have worked here Has the air ever been so dull and depressing It tasted warm and metallicdisstopea But not in a good way I turned up early this morning I mean, I hate
She slept with her demons, To live those dreams, They weren’t reality, Yet, oh! So pretty. Not pristine, What a pity, Those nights of heavy rain, Might give her also a forever stain. All the cards on her side, A
When I was arranging daffodils you send in tanks. The sky was overcast. When I was talking to clouds Fireballs are delivered. That signals the specific gravity is shifting to knobs. The artist was going to disappear. I think of
I must accept the insignificance and solve the puzzle of night. Possessed sunlight always pursues the shadows of words. Philosophy of veils descends on awareness casting silhoutte of differences. Nocturnal sweat of sky overwhelms the grass with dew. I pick
What is lost, what did we gain what was possible then what makes it impossible now answers lost in translation questions re-phrased to mean different things feelings are still the same thoughts wander off though I saw a vision and
The day I realised that I’m just like everyone else. Clarity. I spent all my time thinking that I was different, unusual. [Apparently] I thought differently to everyone else. [I] Wanted, needed different things. Craved isolation. Solitude. Peace. Contentment. Simplicity
Remorse it is consuming me My integrity My peace I look into the mirror Evading my eyes For I see the shadow Of the remorse I converse With you I see it Mirrored in you The discomfort I sense Emanating
My arms ached rowing amidst the muddy water of the holy river.. My head reeled battling against the flighty stress carving my mind.. My eyes crammed pursuing peace, as I strived amid the holy river.. The night was dark my
Sitting on the bed your legs stretched, on your shoulder so lovingly you kept my head, holding my face with your palms you kissed me on my forehead, embracing me in your arms you kissed me on both my eyes,
I did not will them dreams of crystals a stupid calendar of flight from insomniac past. Do not want to return to future, hub of my clouds. History had been writhing and screaming. Present cannot redeem my woes. I ask
Frantic screams leap from her A symphony of worship and bitter memories mingling lingering in her mind Pink skin kissed by the summer sun turns purple under her dress as she sleeps, dreaming of her nightmare, her love Drunk on
A man’s choice for imperfect specialty Devoid a woman’s continued quest for security Likewise the two waters in diversity. He believes compromise leads to serenity To the long-haired nothing but a fallacy Then why do the waters co-exist in harmony?
They breezed past as air of life, Never ever to return I didn’t realise! ‘Moments’ that shaped my today, Experiences that enriched my way A fleeting childhood with siblings, A sidelong path to discover things, A raucous time trying to
The dark clouds are rolling in quickly, wild wind blows fast and fiercely Many leaves and twigs start twirling around and circling Feeling like Edgar Allen Poe, In the distance I can hear some echo’s Of many dog’s barking in
The beauty of the world is captured in a glass bottle,all the good,the bad, and the ugly. On one side it storms and love is a lost art form shipwrecked on the coast of loneliness. It’s where guilty pleas are
Integrity of door was challenged, walls will not take the blame. Tension increased between believing and non-believing. Did we listen to moaning of night? There was a murder in broad day-light. Eyes will not betray the whisking of corpse, pallbearers
O; happy folk, poetry is the fingers of light, descending at evening like an old farmer with eyes cut from azure. It told me that the sun has two long braids, and goes out at dawn to her grandfather’s flourishing
An old woman slings loose the accordion from her shoulder, feels her ribs expand draws a mental connection with the sag of her breasts and, broke, starts off home unseasonably warm for February a pack of dogs have run of
Find something you’re passionate about and let it consume you. Do not run from it. Let it keep you awake for 48 hours at a time. And while you’re running on zero sleep, create the next wonder of the world.
I am a creation of yours, taken after you with the same traits and a unique hue, do not have demand, do not have desire but only a need, your little time and attention, indeed. Acknowledged with the labour you
Glowing sea tries to touch the sky, again and again, As I appeal for your love even in inevitable constrain. Endless sea merges with sky far away from the earth, Just like our souls amalgamate with eternal love and mirth.
Every time has a beginning and the laws of the universe are binding that’s why your soul grows weary, the curse, if you are not law abiding, seeing things blurry and of course, staring into the distance during that divine
Dawn did arrive and brought soft light across a sand-filled shore, but no one knew the sadness that the widow there did bore. The young new widow with bare feet and loneliness at heart, walked slowly down the sandy beach,
A toxic tongue laps the ocean and fish goes to sleep at bottom. I do not know from where to start. A distraught candle flickers. The blast victim was pregnant and the foetal head got severed off in womb. There
It all started when my mother left me, I started to feel empty. Days passed by, weeks slowly fading months began hating me emotionally. Years and even decades swept suddenly, My mind said to stop this agony. I started to
The city appears with three folds The wintry upper sky is quite red With dim looking sun The middle level is foggy, Zero level is full of chill wind. The man you had seen in last summer on narrow street
Though every country in the world has freedom I don’t feel we are very free No, not the richest or the poorest, not anybody Bound by chains we may or may not see No, we haven’t yet escaped slavery, Why,
Dense deep and dark… what does it mark? Think the eyes speak? What do they really seek? Quiet and calm, as if darkness is like a balm.. No shimmer, no shine… is everything fine?? Dark though it be.. Seek search
Mind cant mind its business It keep on dancing to its tunes It gets agitated at the slightest provocation It gets disturbed on losing money it gets agitated on not making money It weeps when others make money it feels