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

My Father I see her in front of me, but not for long, she Leaves without a Word or goodbye, Disappears into her own brutal Darkness, NEVER seeming to plan to return, a deluded life I lived now shattered IN

Deep sorrows I, in solitude partake, While mirth we share, basking sweetly in bliss, Such times are when I hid grief for your sake, Or when engaged in emprise of a kiss; It seems that night falls every time you

While out hiking high in the Cascade Mountain Range, with jagged mountain peaks acting as my back drop, I watch as I behold in the glory of Creation a rainbow being created after a gentle rain shower. An eagle appears

It is said to have goodness, It could be enjoyed with or without sweetness. Having coffee is the time, To discuss issues which are prime. Watching children play, Or granny flaunting the pot she made out of clay. Putting a

This night, the moon shining at the window There are some noises tonight Tonight there are some noises to build love There are some noises tonight Not all angels look alike, not all, my love! With some there’s nothing left

Tryst with enemy bakes the earth. I am standing firm on dust of times with rising threat. In vloaks, under the fading moon they had come, plundered my yard of truth and blackened the face of an ancient statue of

As if words of love could stand alone, Give shelter and feed me. Days when I was hungry, he fed, Provided for another family, But wrote and boasted about me. Cold nights caused me to shiver. No furious fire could

No cure seems to work. Between absurd and wise, Lone he walks. It is a note on the timidness of a star, which couldn’t come near the earth. On the slope of a crater, a boulder stopped it. No laughter

How could someone like you? Ever love someone like me… Well you must be an Angel A miracle sent to me from Heaven above as hard as it Is to believe, just when I had All but given up on

Trust the person who calls spade a spade Trust not the person who praises without base Rudeness may be bitter to swallow but frankness is the stepping stone to swallow success sweet talks though pleasant need not be true Truth

Blessed by a firm, wealthy and loving family You went through trials, hardships and burden… You married young hoping for happiness… You yearned for love and faith… You didn’t trouble anyone… You did them all alone… Faith was what you

For two days I stayed in a hill resort Opposite was a hill top, easy to conquer with little effort That was covered by many a variety of tree Without greenery, leaving few gaps, as free Those gaps looked like

The past that we lived in can not be regained. All kids’ lives are being drained By sitting at the computer playing video games The screens are leeches that suck kids’ life away And yet kids continue to play, Ignore

I have a box and that’s for a fact- from which an act is being lead. With scripts of wild puns that overlap, it banters back while remaining intact! Equipped with taunting realizations that retort- with hiss as they push

Let me sail across the seas to her land, Or let me fly on clouds that hover over her. Let me drive through the winds that carry her voice, Or let me breathe her scent in the breeze. Let me

Love is It is not just doing what crosses your mind without thinking about it or doing things just to look good It is much more bringing a genuine smile in the face of a child or truly promising that

You are a lovely memory; But, today you are only my reminder…. You are my reminder to be careful… Be careful of the people I invest my time in… To see people for what they are And not for who

Shiny little lights on the ceiling reflect intermittently what’s within There’s no space for our bodies to gasp and that crude cry’s lost in the making. Shiny skin on my arms potent with sweat and charms of tonight we twirl

All I ever wanted is just you and me, mistakes that I did broke down us beneath.. It’s me who laid down all the fights it’s u who helped me tackle my plights.. Every tear for you is worth tonight,

Eight kisses of death and I am alive My chest is still bleeding Come brother, come, stitch my wounds. What shall we believe, rebirth or life after death? Both are study of wasteland. To speak through angels is difficult these

To my cocoon I wish to return To the safety of my nest. To the womb that nurtured me Where I had long been in blissful unawareness With eyes shut tight Fists clenched too Yet to feel , see and

In the garden of dates, autumn is in love, With the crowning glory of sky blue above, Bringing the fruits of this October day light, I saw your splendor in the misty dawn slot, You appear in a shadow of

Fiery fervent flames raged in the room Passionately playing the melody of death In the air danced a broiling, smoky flume That blurred Julia’s e’ery path of escape The fire imprisoned her trembling soul Who begged the blaze to spare

Another minute without you, has passed, As sands pour grandly in a timely fall, And so did leaves that on the ground have massed, When they obliged to heed the Winter’s call; But wintry days lingered, to fill my life,

Nestled high in the Rocky Mountain Range, a mystical valley is uniquely situated. Eloquently encased by snow draped peaks. A breading ground for Hoary Marmots. Continually feeding a high spirited pack of massive wolves, is found. These massive wolves are

(A small lyrical tribute on Environment) We seldom forget to go about our routine But sure we forget to protect nature’s goldmine We keep priorities changing, as a matter of fact, keep re-arranging. Mountain highs to ocean lows Mother Nature

(America, following a landmark agreement) Dear Mr. President, Was it worth it? Was it worth Selling your country’s freedom, The liberty it is so famous for, For a few extra bucks in your pocket? Was it worth Strangling the creative

My wish is to be near ..not easy to out from the fear i miss the most ..and i care battling with the tears still in a mode to cheer cherry blossom thoughts at times … Unfaked pores fading out

May the ink that flows From the nib of my pen Forever entertain you With words of love And life and wonder Lick beams of light Through clouds of thunder May the blood that flows Through the hand that writes

~Wanting to feel your breath in this room, in half-light, my hands opened the window to let him in, the green moon. For so much violence in everyday life. let’s break a poem and sqeeze its honey and carve only

EAR Ear is meant to hear On hearing Romantic tunes Ear tunes the heart On hearing nice words Ear soothes the mind On hearing soft voice Ear brightens the eyes On hearing appreciative words Ear brightens the mood On hearing

We enter the scene but do not hang around, shortly back into the ether we bound. We are just flesh and bone, in the end just ashes and soot is all that is found. It’s what we leave behind that

The world is a nasty-looking fruit, With a skin made of TV screens, Of omnipotent mouths spitting out hate. Through your ears and eyes, they always creep in. But there’s a way to survive, a way to tread evil’s waters.

Lilac in the morning sun while the feelings were Still there lingering questions through my Cranium yet it fills a mental stadium full of Bad brain cells of bad memories and bad Frequencies, That means that everything that I went

Lost the faith, Have no hope, long is the journey ahead, With little scope. Then comes the light, out of nowhere, To show me the way that had disappeared. but deeper, there was still, just there somewhere. So I buckle

we’d been cooped up by rain at the end of September family and cats. gradually contempt bred until sun and heat returned in respite, grass warming to please all species of toes. cats charged around unruly flower beds, flossing fangs

I feel your warm hands on me An intense touch, cold and lifeless Your eyes say what should be Our hearts united in perfect oneness But the light’s slowly cleared the shadow And my reality’s a lie so hollow I’ve

Ciao Lecce, dolce Lecce Pink flowers cascade down from baroque rooftops past the watchful eyes of permanent guards Sunny streets the home of artists capturing the beauty to be carried home At the city center a pole surrounded by locks

Making promises is his habit Violating is his nature Traits make one like him Why then the feelings capture. Recoiling of impatient intestines Swings of heart, jumps of spirits Chest throbbing with impatience Is the specific poser that hurts? For