Repercussions poems bring the best collection of short and long repercussions poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great repercussions rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these repercussions poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on repercussions are here for you.
The mask of retributions pounds archives of deceit illuminating your mind towards repercussions surmised, pickle with veils of silence distributed by heirs of distrust. You wonder how this all came about but realize it was your own reciprocal doings while
Life is a series of relationships, Which come & go as time drips. A consolidated sequence of life is lew, But the list of happy moments are few. Living life with that only one, And not an analogy of some.
Heavens descended Agni, Varuna, Indra & Yama¹ lined up To witness a Swayamvar² Of a heart with a soul, A reunion on earth & a Meghdutam³ With a cloud as pen The universe as canvas Was asked to describe The
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
A distended deceipt takes over, when you, you become the fear – under a distorted moon, tangled, unscripted. The damp nails scratching, on the skin of light after hurricane. Ruins stand on broken skulls praising the icy death bringing the
Ridiculous, ridiculum, ridiculi, Everything that lives must suffer and die. Ridiculous, ridiculum, ridiculi, You can’t live forever so why even try. Don’t give it away though, Don’t let them take it from you either. Don’t really even mind going, Just
I’m a twisted echo In a suicidal prayer, Toxic, dark, and damp Empty thoughts, a musical despair. Demon’s start to whisper softly In an eerie yet, enchanted lullaby, A need to numb the pain within me I dance with the
Photo by Anemone Jones This heartache consumes me; I have nothing left to give I plead with my soul to forget and forgive Love’s journey has ended, how can that be Hearts once tethered are now set free As the
The puppet, strung up, made to move ever faster With time rises proficiency, it overtakes its master It craves the open air, it wants to test its wings The master cackles, “Fool, you know not what Fate brings” The puppet
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.
The worn out longing rests in me Blooming a thought sluggishly Of times when you unwrapped within Your touch melting my transparent skin A heavy block of pain in throat Zillion words thought and wrote Your being was my poem
Words are left unspoken, feeling are listless We speak, but barely talk Venice was never so far Your silence kills me My effort is futile, the love we had is an empty boat Sailing with no hope to reach ashore
Some science and commerce words are cut to use ‘co’ in shortcut. The intelligent way of stamping saves the labor of writing. Company loses its ‘mpany’ and ‘C0’ never looks funny. Another ‘Co’ presents color of black berry and ‘Cobalt’
A fugitive chameleon sits on my window sill daily, ceding the space horizon to thickness of delusion; wants to decimate the infamous rotting image of man, shining everyday in lush damaging gossips. A perfect imperfection of treachery to attack the
Anxiously gripping her fingers tight She looked at the morning sunlight Dress in flowered dress of white She waited for the moment with all her might Believing that she was not surely late Her eyes were locked towards the gate
I call your name A thousand times I picture your face Memories hauntingly linger Of dusk, a falling veil, masking the harshness of the day The golden hue of a beautiful sunrise Lazily awakening, like the opening strokes of a
Face to face, I was bewildered. What was happening to the garden? My body left in absent seizure; words had destroyed a beautiful poem. I was listening without blinking like a blue moon or the serene lake. The interlocking in
I am running behind the golden treasure, Not realizing what is actual pleasure. I am a person with greed in my soul, Not seeing the monster inside this gold. I am not the man who cares for the other, Not
As my days feel longer and my brittle bones begin to weaken, I drift like the sea, a spark dampened, my mind a dimming beacon. My legs are shaken and my fingers start to tremble, My thoughts are twisted influenced
Dreams. They could have been of concrete. Of bricks, with the mortar of motivation holding them together. They were once. But now, they are a deck of cards. A house of cards as a child would make in his spare
Sore soul seeking for help, Thus before him, confess Bridges badly broken to carry on Oppressed mind through criticism Weaknesses to hinder positivity But, hope on Majority accounts no space for worthy Behind one’s back, they swear Fallen and rose
I’ve become aware I can time-travel, particle-physics has long posited this, Stephen Hawking admits it’s possible, even likely. It starts out this way, drowsing on my front room sofa TV tuned down, & in just a moment an hour and
flirting with fire blowin it up in the most earnest desire her perfume was led to basement blues remove those shoes bask in the news then you will se a falsified game of reality in society we got hidden games
The anthropologist came a great distance to observe and study the recently discovered subjects. Nothing was know about them Nothing at all. The anthropologist was anxious to get to work to set up the study. The work would be intense
Look in the mirror. What do you see? Depends on the choices you’ve made. Depends on your programming. Depends on where you were born. Depends on what you were born. Look in the mirror. What part will you play? A
Love brings a sparkle of lust Or a tenderness of pure heart Tones of affection leaving you breathless for more…. Its voice caressing your soul We long to be loved and equally reciprocate. How can love break your heart It’s
I realised late in my life that I was Imported to this world from an unknown world I thought the world I was born belongs to me and none dare question my citizen ship I travelled freely without any permission
Her eyes widened, Not once did I stop to notice that this was the first time These words came from my mouth. Through action yes but never once did I stop to pay attention that I’ve never said it before.
By the breath of god The dark curtain is washed One hearty sigh, cooled To a soft egg blue sky Silence in an orange glow Futile street lights On the sidewalk Not a soul Broken watch dials Whispered me to
Running, running through the crowded San Isidro de El General town square, awash in punishing heat and light, and you just miss your bus, the only bus home, now 55 Kilometers stare you in the face. You buy a torta,