Oblivion poems bring the best collection of short and long oblivion poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great oblivion rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these oblivion poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on oblivion are here for you.
The Autumn wind blows Fall leaves flow Crunch dry asphalt Friend or foe Days pass Pages flip Time flies Broken ties Daylight wind chaff Deception so daft Flying against the breeze Near the still pond It will appease Fearing for
Book Profile: Oblivion Written over several years, oblivion traces the journey of author’s first love, as it moves from longing to being to loneliness. Each poem is complete in itself, capturing a singular aspect of love, a petal in its
I’ve danced on many worlds, and will on many more. Each have proven unique, with many lessons to learn. I’ve traveled far but have farther still to go. The road is long and tiresome, with many falling and failing to
We are mere children of the void. Specks on an infinitesimally small mote in limitless space. Lost by size, overlooked by indifference. A universe indifferent to our existence. The stars will shine, the planets will spin regardless of our future.
Mirror was shattered By a single crevice. Those dusky eyes are places Where truth lies. Silent as night was my fate But then those footfalls Captured me to enervate. Wind turned the pages Of a story forsaken. Words had some
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.
Sitting in a cushioned chair in his living room, absurdly comfortable, while he reads Georg Trakl’s late poems, the old man, himself a poet, drifts into a shallow sleep. He is alone in that place of Being, where desire and
Once upon my nocturne sorrow, As I delineate the morrow, Of a dream, flourishing in might, To fizzle in the morning light, Such when the waves swept me ocean, Of glum, beneath skies, cerulean, My memory holding serene, The fairest
To go beyond global suffering, find death in blue glacier of frozen physical. Greed of elements, and attached commentary on the burning, anonymously, when you were in dock. The unfolding of the negation starts softly down the blissful oblivion. False
“So finally, he got talking, As if his patience had succumbed. The one who’s closest to me, Well, on a physical level, for sure; against whom I press my cheek. Who I’ve spent innumerable nights with. Sometimes, he brings along
For long, we lived in our hearts ignoring the world. but now, the knocks have got louder and our hearts have grown heavier. you go your way, my love, I will find mine. for long, we lay under trees, holding
With roots wrinkled and parched, standing upright bluntly and lifelessly, And the green cloak being lost and you adore a thin skin of brown rusty bark falling in bits and pieces. The long chain of ants are seen no more
Deathly silence enveloped the vicinity As tears welled in every eye Stirred every heart,soul and mind That photograph and that beautiful face Thrown out of existence By inexplicable desire and malevolence Now cast a ghostly radiance In the light of
Walking along this isolated path again, Treading heavily on those pavements once more; The Eternal Stream has had it slain. The rocks and pebbles have withered away along this shore. In ruins,are those hamlets far away. Desolated are those fields
He faked a letter to god and slept whole night. (Fallen in a creek from a moving train.) Indeed, he saddled himself with luxury of oblivion. The success around him was most obstinate. Pretending to condone the arthritis of social
A storm I think, it is coming through– thunderheads in a blind momentum overthrow the stillness, the cars skid and blare, the men skitter, clouds roar Long deep shadow covered life and love lightening flares down to earth kissing the
After a while, the world moves on. Bodies crumble like ancient statues, memories fade into the void of oblivion and time. We look at our lives closely, and see they are like winter snow. Every moment of our lives unique
Honeymoon with history was over. A two headed snake was sitting on a coin of leather in grass. Blue tongued jewel was going to serve the enormity of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil of
There was a man stepping off the curb forward progress drawing him into line the city bus intent on cheating the amber light I saw oblivion coming, certain then in the next moment revolved around a crash stop, no squeal
You must be thinking, here are shoulders that can take all your tears and be surprised to find me on some days with tears, that fires can’t evaporate, leave alone the warmth of your embraces. you must be thinking, here
Tattered clothes that were barely there Her tortured soul was threadbare too. She mirrored our impotent helplessness In the face of destiny’s dire performance As we watched her bizarre life played out. Every time I saw her writhe and squirm,
In those days, you asked me, innocently, ‘why do you love me?’. I answered with vague things. I spoke about our great, winding conversations, about your eagle’s wings, your sparrow’s heart, about your knife-like fingers, your face that floats as
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
As the beggars that never rest, when I knock and knock on closed doors, don’t ask me ‘why?’. As the waves that never tire, when I pour and pour myself on heartless rocks, don’t ask me ‘why?’. I am just
These days, as I wake up, an eagle sits on my window. ‘tell me, my eagle, tell me the tales of distant flowers, of dragons, of dangerous people, with beards, with spears. tell me of their loves and dreams and
as the dawn breaks through the skies and through the clouds, somewhere a flower wakes up, somewhere a bird calls and calls, in some house, a mother sings, raising the children and gods, the boys and girls stand everywhere, brushing,
The fear is creeping inside with every single step I take Seems like everyone is going to hurt and their sympathies are fake With broken dreams and a heavy heart, I still hope to find solace Though in the past,
The sky is deep and murky green, The white sun sinking over the horizon, Extended by junk and litter. This is the oxymoronic haven. A carnival of despair Filled with torturous laughter Distorted, slow, hurdy-gurdy whistles, And tinkling, unsettling music-boxes.
You entered our landscape of suffering and suffered yourself for our sake You knew we were addicts recovering and trapped by our every mistake Our grief over goodness distorted would daily unsettle our souls And though we found routes to
Hardly does anything trespass through the intricate niches of delirium, A shout practically hovers around in oblivion and a morning yell is supposed to be suppressed in the enthusiastic turbulence of dark whirl Darker emotions have to be admitted and