Fighter poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of fighter poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on fighter are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
It is all about having courage.. To continue your steps with all your luggage! Knowing of no support and absence of grip.. The floor is lubricated and bravery is not to slip! Challenges are limitless, and all are ready to
A heart become hardened by life’s painful knocks Can melt in the warmth of a smile And tender emotions locked tight in a box Awaken to brave a new trial A hope rendered fragile, extinguished by pain Can strengthen at
You there, strong-willed and so brave, smart and so kind. You there sitting and having a hard time, eyes holding back tears you’re afraid to let flow. Let them fall angel, let them all go. You’re not just a fighter
It has weakened my body, Made me a slave of medication, A mockery of the society, Isolated from others, Have missed childhood games, Missed the love of my age mates, Always on treatment, I feel like an experimental object, So
Swaying in my dream Of blissful tomorrow Bearing within future mine Dreaming the dreams of mother to be Days are small weaving for you A feather like sweater with a red bow Nights are longer as I think of you
Dig a hole and shout As death and destruction wage an exemplary war. Soft stranded hair Wailing waves Lead floating bodies astray. Who would cry for you my child? Who remembers the name with the guttural abyss? Who would cry
The wait continues, And it continues still,- Sick of the happenings, My mind echoes “Release” I’ve travelled much, halted more; Failures and eddies – O they were so much more. My mind is not my friend, It incites agony, as
Can you hear? Can you hear his footsteps? On the highway to light, From the alley of darkness? The sky is waving her hands, The ground is raising her sands, In the stormy wind of his entrance, As it’s one,
I came home happy, very delight and much overjoyed, With true hopes that might come true but before shattered. For one I was so excited but I went on path God led, My dreams were like clothes when dried in
Men rise, men die but a few live on in eternity, There are kings, there are mortals and there are those who are immortals but a few are engraved in the silhouettes of history. There was a lion who once
Heavenly Father, I focus my thoughts on You. In the palm of Your hand, how can I lose? Your grace is sufficient for every need. All things are possible if I will only believe. Divine power through me is flowing.
I am called Balaji in Tirumala; I am called Rama in Bhadrachala; In Sholapur I am Panduranga; In all His temples, I am called Naarasimha; In Mathura I am Govinda; These but names that called I am; In wayside temple
You had an aura of mystery that captivated my heart, Even in my sleep I was allured, indicating your start. Whether it’s the water droplets or ice or snowballs, All bring an immense pleasure, when water falls. Oh Rain!! You
Who are you, and why are you here? I am your security, your protector and your safety blanket. We will start this age of discovery and wonderment together, Pausing only to sleep and refuel our curiosity. Who are you, and
Were you ready for a virginity test to cross the umbrella of harpoons. A chilled moon will welcome you after slaying the hot sun in the valley of gods. A schism scoops ignominy. Seeing the lights which were not there.
Anti-howling receives the deserter. There was a mass breast-beating without any noise. The pugnacious jaw drops. Shows a frail sensitivity to tormented values – of invisible mirrors, shutting down the wolf’s face. An ancient spider jumps on your bronzed ego.
Last night I dreamed but not of Manderlay. It was instead of the Oak Ridge Cemetery, in Springfield where death evokes life. The moon bathed everything with its silvery beams making it easy to find my way through row upon
I remember that warm sunny day we traveled through wow what a long way ouch darn tree I remember we stopped there I saw I saw that waterfall it glistened it glowed what a pretty sparkle I remember when I
The human? That is not a question mark, but purely a contemplative issue. Dilemma, bridge connecting light from dark. And timelessness, cocooned in timely tissue. Recumbent on duality of mind, pulled multiple directions by his cares, the human, guilty, slumbers
If there had been a wizened gypsy I’d crossed who’d laid down a curse upon me or revealed I would die while driving a car it would make more sense, this milky inner weakness I feel when I consider getting
If the game were to have what we wanted All the time, with each impulse, and when With the waits infinitesimal heartbeats So you get what you want, with no pain Without leaping, or jumping, or running Without straining, or
People play the dirty games, all for little fun or some fame. They hide behind the fake smile, deceiving the look in their eyes. They fail to hear the human heart, so miserably they tear it apart. Their empty laughs
I truly love Canada always my home though if I could this planet I’d roam India fascinates me chaos and all China’s a mystery that long friggin’ wall Cuba’s resilient they keep trudging on more than paid for their sin
Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.
You know, I just write as it flows Sometimes poetry Sometimes prose Who knows… What this life brings Who knows… When the nightingale sings Yesterday is history Tomorrow is a mystery Today is the truth Now is the reality I
I was scrolling through a few of the #MeToo posts on my timeline, when, I thought I’d bring a few questions clawing my mind, to the society’s attention – How could you throw the unassuming girl child to the ants,