Enmity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of enmity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on enmity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The stem cells coaxed to become a kidney or a trachea failed to ask the Himalayas, why were not, they gathering the ice for glaciers! Some sexual jealousy? The naked darkness will nurse the roses to rest on the barrel
When a crisis happens Our life is changed Either endangered Or rearranged Conflict precedes clarity Urges wars and enmity Enmity brings despair Wars are never fair Peacefully solving a crisis Wisdom is your oasis Responsibility to grow Every person must
Neither a coaching class nor experience, We had in baby-sitting, feeding and Cleaning little kids; but managed, somehow, With the limited knowledge, we played it; The little one kept me and my wife, Always active and alert, we never went
Who are forgivers? Forgiveness belongs to those with a big heart, people of a strong heart, and powerful in mind; ambassador of peace and jocund, those with heart of kindness and people with milk of benediction. Can you forgive? Yes!
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?
Shylock and Portia, in a court-scene, One to shed blood, and the other Not to shed blood, on one and the same condition, To be true to the court, in favor of justice, On rules and regulations, against Antonio, A
You tend to ostracize the apparition setting the real culprit free. It does not matter to pretend now, a damaged house has become a burden. Who was playing the enmity card? Hammered, eyes wide open I start documenting the deceit
My useless body, looks outside the window. Sees the pleasant nature, comes a wish to run across the velvet grass. The lovely rain makes me jealous, of children splashing in the puddles. Once I want to wander, explore the fragrant
The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love! The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest – The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!
My mind is going blank, The heart repeats its mistakes, It goes through heaven’s gate that leads to hell I am feeling like I am wasted, Wasted everyday, The way you left me had no happy ending Living the rest
This is my home large, colorful, abstract real paintings on the wall a reflection or deflection from the self? Light gasping for life emitting from the lamp brushing past the faces so bright This is my home A sanctuary of
As light raindrops pat mildly on my hair, Reminding of the April drizzles felt; A heavier pour could drench in disrepair, Romantic strolls to fizzle or to melt; We watched torrents pelt our favorite tree, To gush off the boughs,
It’s always absurd To give up everything and run after something that’s never been achieved without even knowing if thats anyway possible A total dreamer missing everything at every point believing in instincts that are just abstract emotions Maybe its
I am Lucifer the Prince of daemons which I command like a bunch of minions, for with them I annex realms and subjects who are no more than heavenly rejects, distinct from Saints; the apples of God’s eye. In Eden’s
I’ve fallen in love with the poet In all its dimensions rippling across the pool of time, incarnate in its everything the rosy cheeked and wet lipped girl rattling existential verse over the clamor of a twelve car train, barreling
It was a pearly sphere, Running in aimless circles, Glittering and radiating The wondrous rainbow colours, Upon the green floating leaf– Its home for a vanishing moment. Spurred by the wandering breeze, This gift of the Heaven , Played a
Infant hardly know what is money Child hood is beauty without money Youth is filthy sans money Young age is a struggle to make money Middle age is meant to save money Old age can survive only with money Dead
My love, I would like for you to be sad in my absence, wandering among thorny regions, miserable, drowning in dry leaves, picking little stone to throw at noisy birds and children. My love, I would like for you to
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,
Hurt, broken and lied to, Just the way this world goes… How selfish people have become, Their actions alone shows… There might be a handful, Kind, caring and nice… But the pressure being intense, ‘Goodness’ pays its price… But still
Positive expressions I may try to impress But you are expressing The art inside your hearts Your minds are full of moves And jumps Already reached the outermost Level The fast moves more than fast reactions Bending your bodies like
Sometimes, it looks beautiful and loving, Our thoughtless acts and thirst of beauty, Make much harm to the sweet beloved, We ultimately stop the outburst of beauty. Making fairy doors in the stems of trees, Looks beautiful and charms exploiting,
On wrong side of truth a prophecy burns. A conflict of your own choosing when more was less. Do you need some divine intervention in resolving human questions? The innocence of a sunflower will not blame the moon for dark
Just like a Bonsai you stand strong and tall, Despite being just five feet tall. You rise high and refuse to yield, In rain and stormy weather, offering the best shield. You let us blossom and fruit, Ensuring we stay
Low and behold those creatures cried and begged while the butcher cut their heads then he sells them part by part to her delicatessen Kidney pie, liver fry, sizzling heart and brain rated for their fat Hanging in freezer rooms
Anger turns you away Holding that poison within your mind Your body and soul consumes you It diminishes your aura like acid And you allow this person to always be a factor To be the bigger person you have to
Holding the ladder I was hungry looking at the waiting dawn. Raw landscape: narcissism forages the belly. Picking up the figs from passion flowers. Is that right? Can you sow the seeds on a cloud? Unclothed words? Stealthily a guerilla
A bond that remain till death, Memories that remain unsaid, Partners in crime, Terrible with mind No plan for future, There is no one mature, Its makes us fight; It makes us scream But the bond between us remain clean,
for Joan There was the smell, the smell of film, as I popped the lid, removed it from its plastic canister, and loaded it, all fingers and thumbs, threading the leader, winding it on, praying it had caught, but scared
A black rose blossomed in the snow forlorn it stood freezing in bitter cold alone and pining for a loving touch.. love went to pluck it and take it home to adorn a crystal flower vase the sly thorn pricked
“There’s magic in the Coolroe-stream, or pucks weave herb into the browse to make me dream… In Killorglin town I bowed before a virgin-queen, who gave a crown to make me king with vision over everything. Our match remained unconsumate.
You are not with yourself today. Conversation was stopped, from cloud to cloud. Now you know what you did not want to know. No longer the pathless destiny, comes near you, you go towards the bushes to collect the ash,
Deeper as it dredged, I came empty That’s how dishonesty swept happiness out of me, My mood was left uneasy I was disturbed. I was overstimulated. While the sun beams at the window, the day has ended for me But
Everyday I stand Bold on my Roots Giving you all the reasons to Live Feeding your Wards with all of my Fruits Even after all the Tortures you Give You need me today to build your Nest Everyday it’s not