Malice poems bring the best collection of short and long malice poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great malice rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these malice poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on malice are here for you.
Love and malice are sides of a coin both feed equally to our mood. We praise the charm of our lover first for beauty then the qualities, in the name of understanding we weigh the obedience. Affections for young self
Something was not polite in signs. The smell of incarcerated bed of gods was floating down. A subdued shadow of the black moon was climbing on the window. And each house had offered a son, to rage a war of
for self deception sulfur fumes incite mood swings soaring to clean the malice, reaper of gravity zero what was the price, of a tongue, mimicking the greatness? between birth and death, for survival of crotch, undressing the fear, terror inflicts
Angelic, able-bodied and adventurous amateurs aimed awkwardly at associates after attempting another assassination. Beleaguered, beaten and broken beasts barely breathing; bathed in beautiful basins. Begging became boasting beyond borders and busty brides blushed before being bought by bashful brutes. Camps
Submerged in doubt one floats carefree in aimless waters without hope of touching land. Tethered with guilt and regrets one tows his/her soul to a destiny of penance. Overt or clandestine, pain is no one’s gain if one can grasp
They say Dreams are not Real… And, that it’s an illusion we live in! Would it have been possible, to think of our Independence, Of India being free, had not… the HEROES of our HISTORY dreamed of freeing it, from
The glint of steel, so sharp and smooth, beneath my fragile fingers. Delicate inlaid patterns reflect an afterimage that lingers. As a child I’d hide beneath cotton sheets feigning death, that I could deceive. Then risking a peep from beneath
Something was not polite in signs. The smell of incarcerated bed of gods was floating down. A subdued shadow of black moon was climbing on the window. And each house had offered a son, to rage a war of retribution.
Caged in the cobwebs of the past Surrounded by the tall stalagmites of blames Lying uneasy on betrayals amassed Is A vulnerable soul for whom love was no game. Splinters of Lies that hurt and bled Trust shattered, Malice brought
This life takes that which may be taken and avows that Which is without comprehension, Embodiment unreasoned, seeking purpose, it Navigates with pain and pleasure, Yet not with both in equal measure, rather as season dictates Upon which emotions soar
The wail fills the genesis; you are not living in me any more. Outside a grey mist of absence prevails. For a while there was stillness of white death, then roaring of a hurricane, before it struck the ancient wall
Glass and steel twinkle in the sunlight against a late summer sky of blue Like diamonds in the sky The morning air is crisp and clean, sweeping over a field of gold covered in dew Glistening in the sun Like
Blood was in season, on your hands. A staged encounter mauling the clouds. Into a hare, you put the lead with a roar of gun and sun wants his share. Beneath the honours lies the guilt of a ravaged moon.
Under lip’s shadow dislocated in faint moonlight we discussed the maligned communications between fuming monologues of desiccsatd life. Sorcery was not able to knife the secrets of the park, branches and trees of memory. The game continues in jungle of
There she stood wrapped in her own misery in a reluctant recluse trying to hide the tears that swelled every now and then trying to shove away the world that crept into her regular sobs she knew life as it
Oh, mosquitoes, children of lust, you hover all over the world, to suck blood for own cause and multiply. Helpless society and frustrated victims are your brooding ground. You’ve outnumbered leeches and vampires only through a strategy of invading indoors.
At the END OF THIS AUTUMN, I am standing Under a barren tree, bleak and exposed TO weather with shedding leaves, There rests a house away from the barn, Decorated with vivid colours of rainbow And maintained by careful hearts
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
When humanity first became aware, the world was a scary dangerous place. Everything was a mystery, nothing but survival at stake. We created gods to help us make sense. Gods became the catchall to explain the unknown. Gods became religions
It’s an adjustment, everyone says, life is to adjust Without questioning, what this adjustment means to anyone. Keep silent, when the other-end goes on shouting and argue For or against, do agree, whatever the other end demands, Without asking why
There I was. Loitering in the lobby of her heart, after a long flight the only thing on my mind was rest. The aroma was nice, stepping in through the double doors. Following the stretch of carpet to the front
We often don’t think of the danger ahead while on Road We take it for granted mishaps occurs only for others We never put ourselves in the position of an accident victim We rush to the spot where accident has
found discarded in a blackberry verge rebar caked in layers dirt and rust like an alien archeologist might lovingly wrest from a sandy pit blow it clean with lepidopterous lips much heavier than appears it should strains elbow and shoulder
how to clear a cluttered mind it’s a mystery to me deep breath in relax unwind time to let it be pointless thoughts to be diffused inhabit precious space weary spirit battered, bruised forever on the chase a cluster of hows
Punished for being irregular, Is when I met someone similar. Caught for late submission, Sat next to me, a wonderful person. The first guy in college, Whom I spoke to, with lot of courage. There felt a spontaneous connection, That
He did not fathom my words; Or that ensnaring wasn’t meant for birds. I was at my wits end; But his stiff-necked tenacity refused to bend. What’s sauce for the goose wasn’t sauce for the gander; I lacked the candour
Full of beauty and majestic wonder Beyond the limitations of reason and understanding A sort of- holy enigma With no possible beginning, should there ever be an ending? Ever-watching eyes Always winking, might we share a secret I reach, but
Happening? you heave a sigh. In peril, mother of peace? Real threat to ice lingam? the Creator? Falling apart? Cat’s claw was not healing. Where the greens will go? The pods, the seeds? Tara, Tara! come again, we are waiting
Some people are capable of the most cowardly acts ever committed Of wounding a poor vulnerable homosexual’s body until he desperately cries his lungs out mortified Inflicting deep wounds of the flesh and then watching him slowly faint into unconsciousness
If the world was a better place to be.. Through your brown eyes I would love to see.. Those eyes..so beautiful and big.. That Deep wells of water they could dig.. Those eyes are the reflection of your soul.. Through
That east wind clawed at my skin leaving me fragile again I was once impervious to reckoning but now every element guffaws at how weak I have become the shrill call of the night birds humiliate me for I am