Travails poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of travails poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on travails are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Feeling a little more strong with his clothes all back on, Harry felt a bit more enthused. He didn’t open his mouth to ask what it’s about, But his mind was no less confused. Then they tied his arms with
From inner room to open field, from kitchen countertop to office desk, her travails remain the same. Everyday she tells stories that draws tears from hearers’ eyes, unceasingly, stories that elicit sympathy-she relates to her listeners; beyond description account on
Lessons and learnings exist in stories and tales ; in trees and flowers ; in oceans and whales ; But to no avail, Till we realise life does not move from milestone to milestone, But crawls through challenges and daily
Emotional sequestration perseverates across thine time warped weft wise wold, sans interpersonal stagnation flourishes as oft twice told tale amidst derelict hollowed moldering sacrificed stranglehold did potential now bankrupt acquaintanceships/ friendships get out sold agonizingly excruciatingly jujitsu physically writhing front
Waiting under the opaque moon a primeval instinct takes over you and you start arriving. A black bone renders the ash on your forehead and you complete the circle – reaching childhood; you start climbing the ladder, for instantaneous release.
“How glorious and how perfect Art the works the Lord hath done” For upon nothingness, He formed the earth When nothing that breathes upon the vast universe lived He made all things alive by His breath of life From the
I live with you and die with you My thoughts stick perennially to you. I savor your magnetic caresses and Enjoy it with each breath of my life. I am obsessed by your continual dreams Your presence fills me with
Suppose the sun does not rise the school boy may still lumber in his slumber, the house wife may enjoy her liberty to corner her routine job in relaxing herself in spiritual rest. But the busy father may be surprised
There sits a geisha along The shore When will love arrive; the ocean her tears have cried Awaiting the sound of Orr like arms to paddle through Melancholy puddle. Her hair shimmers ebony Awaiting a love that crosses the sea
On the hay stack lies my body brought from the shooting range. Brain dead, I exit, to watch the blood drenched earth. Foot prints of eternity. Window is shut. No light enters. In tiers, the cadavers are lying in a
You said you’re in love with that image of me On the wall, the painting hanging delicately. You said you love the slopes, curves of my face Those subtle little lines you just love to trace. You said my lips,
Discarded, on a heap of broken ceramics, a rotten tooth wants an award, for biting the snake. Who was pulling the strings? The temper of a black moon beguiles the sun. The green-pathway was hidden under the rock. Who was
Sun spreading its colourful rays, Slowly dispersing in water at pace, The clouds saluting its attitude The waves tuning its magic magnitude, It’s time for Sunset! It’s time for Sunset! Blowing breeze carried text of peace in it, Foot stamps
I can’t stop writing when I think of you You are morning’s cold water splash You are the shower of rain from hanging clouds You are favourite song on my lips You are the dream keeps me awake every night
The smirks and taunts upon the faces People who try to diminish your value Every action judged,critiqued with words Flung at you from on high Where they sit with superiority Like a girl, they say You throw the ball You’re
The wasp makes its inscrutable plans multitasking cleaning its wings with its hind feet what must it think of the dirt stains ghosts of rainwater covering the outer window like hammer marks all its parts, segmented, moving independent while the
What you did was nowhere near the ugly boundaries of worseness I love you, O my heart, know this, My lips, cherry red, desire your kiss I’ll hug you warmly, and your tears I’ll dry, With a heart of love
The kids wanted a piñata, so we got them one; but I must stress that it had no religious significance. It did not have seven points representing the seven deadly sins, and it was not an allegory of man’s temptation
I tire of the feelings of dread That envelop my heart every day. The dread, and the hopelessness, That fuels this necessary evil of life. Analysis, thinking, computation, Makes my brain overheat Like an outdated machine under pressure. But still
«Let this fluffy snow fall upon our Dreams and make them shine!» Set free, Your breath smoothens unshaken skies; Your perception scratches unopened realities. Is it a diversion –maybe– for lost thoughts, For lost faces and sins? Looking the other
Crying to know Desperate for answers Screaming silently No one knows The uncontrollable tears The fighting within oneself Why her? What did she do? A secret so disturbing Being told no one will believe you A cycle of abuse A
Eyes crack open with the searing of the darkened sky, Awaiting the auspicious oncoming day, Rousing one to feel sanguine and air of optimism, Of high hopes and opportunity which close by lay. Yet with the batting of a wing
In a silent valley of feelings, Under the shadow of deep emotions, A person with a bag of old memories, With a bundle of unsolved queries, Waiting for his next journey, Beyond this inner world, He is a passenger of
Surrounded I was by many, many moaning hearts, My heart, I felt for the last time, blurred vision, sound echoing from far, Black satin with milky lace they decorated the case, I felt like a queen again in white purest
Someone asked me, what happiness is, can you define? I smiled and politely said, it differs from person to person, who am I to redefine? Being happy is a matter of choice, It is mere listening to one’s inner voice!
sometime I watch the fear held aloft by you, possessed, you try to protect yourself from you in vain, very thirsty, white hydrangeas on your lips tremble, exhaust their need for clouds in blue eyes, pale fountain gives up tumult
An attack with hatred and ferocity killed many people, how disdainful blind eyes with no sign of fraternity killed outright teenagers, how painful Parents who lost their children shed tears of blood in mournful an act against the faith of
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.