Elsword Poems

From morn to night, there I go To stand and watch few people; Who comes and go like a dream, In the little town where I dwell. Beside the fire that burns merrily I study the silent little waterfalls, As

But to fully know love you must love yourself. And that is one of the hardest loves to know. To love ourselves is to find ourselves worthy, worthy of being a part. Worthy of being connected. To love is fully

“They told me they were leaving”, He said, with trembling hands. “I believed them but I shouldn’t have, They still taunt me every day.” Stories like these, numerous I’ve heard- Of shadows long and shadows dark. These voices, shrieks of

He threatens me he scares me He says he has my info He told me he’s a hacker But I denied that at first Then things got deeper He said he knows my name, My mom, my brother and my

When you come back to me in the spring, I will bestow all my love upon you, also well-being. Locking you in the depth of my heart without any will, I will fulfill all your dreams with dazzling smile. Deep

Blessed Diana, thrilling phrases of love would make a paragraph, for your much distinguished and magnificent epitaph. Your slumber to eternity be likened to a sleeping beauty, who will be awakened by the kiss of a Seraphic Prince of immortality.

Now you ask me ‘how are you’…Don’t you know what I’ve gone through ? What my thoughts have made me do ?!! A bit late now to see me through. A sorry I’d appreciate, at least some words to comfort

Bygone days had swifter wings That flew over the assorted lands And brought the harmonious peace To tune the music and the gong. Present borrowed mind is leaning Forward and backward Backward and forward Out and in In and out

My looks are nothing special, My face reveals my age. My body shows some wear and tear, And my energy’s not the same. Too often my memory fails me, And I lose things all the time. One minute I know

Behold ! its the rain , oh yes ! Trembling , bouncing , jumping all the way. On the dry , broken paths of undesirable sense Look ! Its a tremendous scene. People are all gathered hence With the birds

My first book was a store of love words were made of sound and touch characters smiled and sung lullabies I learnt to talk and run for the sun. There was a flood of colors, letters, sentence rules and social

She’s dressed in black with white high heels, A mini dress her leg reveals, She fakes some tears with mini skills, She hides her face and what she feels. She wants to say: ‘I am a saint, I can’t bear

Our first meeting was a coincidence, I was attracted by her sweet innocence. The great life awarded me a new company, She is priceless, such people aren’t many. Few days later, I got in contact with her, There was something

I remained transfixed as the booming voice of this roman majestic orator cleft the hallowed halls of this storied Philadelphia sanctuary. His every word rang as true today as when first uttered prior to when the golden age of Rome

Oh God, I am a prisoner of you for life Pray I always speak truth , nothing but truth Wish I am always covered in the shadow of Love Bless me so that when time comes to leave this world

Her embracing self Sweeps you away to an unknown river dale Currents of her whirling posture Working wonder when together. Thy unconscious loving solitude showing bursting aptitude Amusing her tender parts Before another night is over. Dew of her canvassing

Tenuous and stretched are our links Precious, yet an incomplete jigsaw Making it arduous to reach a Safe heaven of human interface. It can whither like the autumn leaves Wearily sinking like the sun at dusk, As if there wouldn’t

Articulating who you really are is like painting exactly what you are trying to say; a word or a colour in the wrong place and it says you are inadequate in some way. we are all inadequate in one way

Tired ,frustrated from Life and job I have a Dialogue with God , With eyes closed, I ask , Dear God what is Happiness ? Is Happiness subjective and just one’s perspective. Or is it Utopian, With rich for more,

I am smiling simply for the joy of being here with you; my heart could laugh about it but a smile has much more of a story to tell. The sun is warm on my face and the music begins

This ungrateful city speaks slowly , not out of shyness because of her short garments , but because its suitcase is overburdened with blood. Bitterly I have been crying since the time I saw her. I cry for my dear

  ” Somebody should annihilate my-self, It’s an Albatross like some pelf ! Loving somebody is a feeling of two in one, Alas! Now ‘I’ and ‘You’ are jettisoned ! Cross to bear that silence without you, Such silence brought

I tried so hard to tell them but they just couldn’t see, The person they were seeing wasn’t really me, The person I was begging them to somehow help me find, The person that I was before I’d lost my

Into the menu smiling cheeks reflect, candlelit white tablecloth, islands amid the carpeted scurry of busboys and waiters in the backdrop of our night Tinkling laughter and ice cubes accompany depths of conversation overheard, yet unheard from couples in quorum

I stepped into the teens With my heartbeat in tune I felt world too romantic On seeing every dame I was shy and hesitant to talk to any of those dames I met this attractive female and was bowled over

They fill my stomach, block its sky lIke reams of paper hasserai acid shades of autumn leaves sent aloft without a breeze they cloud my brain they rain, un-rain and rain again. and stall each lane of acumen thrashing, crashing,

Smoke billows and mingling with the dust rises, a solid choking mass that coats with dirty grey the shapes that lie so still. The silence, broken only by a tearful moan, uneasy on the waiting ears of those who stand

Once again my mind takes flight . Looking at all there is to see. Wandering through different times and realities. Following things as perhaps they might be. Different story lines as far as any mind’s eye can see. Dizzying vistas

The petals of flowers, and the flower itself, that brings sweet fragrance; Its like you, who brought a life-time happiness to my soul. The strings of the violin and the violin itself, that sings the rhythm of love; Its like

Bipolar Disorder is a strongly built conglomerate of depression and mania that yet fails to monopolize on the brain of it’s victim when under medication. Medication to bipolar disorder is like an audit; closely inspected, then revised when an error

I sleep to your sweet lullaby Composing songs of intoxicated love. And I look at our reflections on roads left wet from thirsting rain; Our love – laced between twisted bodies and entwined fingers that smell of the musky clouds

Tears that fall die on the lips You can taste the salt you sip The tear drips down your face In your mouth the tear you faste The bitter taste of the pain you feel In your mouth becomes more

Dreaming about a BRIGHT you baby, To keep my heart warm. The days are getting colder, I’ve found both the chaos and the calm. Are we both still lingering in the avenues, Where we painted the world gold. No matter

In an unfamiliar thorny place, My grandparents’ home stood. Gone were the sounds of voices Sign of life swallowed up. The spot where we played, Path where the grass faded trampled on by footsteps, gone. So were my childhood references.

Repentance of things past and presence, and anticipated misdoings shall be of utmost importance. I shall be more open and vulnerable, being more willing to “Be Wrong”. Evils that are both subtle and also blatant shall be exposed, fought against,

Flowers growing on the beach Some flowers are peachy pears Some are long and slim and sleek I swear I love every colour there Especially with long blonde hair The waves are gently lapping at their feet One two three

The skies smiled above, The moon peeped through the cracks, Clouds black than usual, A new life arrival waited, A pain so enormous, She bore it courageously, This life had to survive, This life wasn’t hers anymore, But every ones’

There’s a mask that everyone wears To shield who they really are inside To hide ugly scars and bury fear So none will know of his inner strife There was a nervous man He had a violently palpitating heart It

dark matters are floating like bowls made of leaves spilling hunger, make me upset, figures moving like ghosts wrenching out the fish plates from rails, nothing will move now except the eyebrows of stone faces, bodhisattvas sitting in scorching sun,

Time and time again I am completely misunderstood Not conforming to social norms that I should I will rebel if people disapprove the way I live my life If told to do something I’ll do it more for spite As