Tyranny poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of tyranny poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on tyranny are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I hope it’s not him, The one who keeps drinking gin. As the bell rang, I said, “who’s there?” He barked, “Open the door! I’m here.” My hands started shaking, And my head started aching. But still I managed to
To come crashing through the gates of hell, look the demon in the eye and casually yell! Total defiance in every breath as you stare down into the dungeons of death. Never before have you shaken my goals or been
She showed up in a faded dress of beige Quite decent, till the time when she sat down And then again when she has crossed her legs This time though, there’s no charge for what she’d shown ‘The clothing shortage
From Time’s first stirring of momentary dread Hope is crushed by tyranny where what might be lies broken Under a brightly garnered garland a siren of sweet promises. As if the stains of blood and tears were sweet red wine
Not superficial, real inside, something was ruined. Tonight I will walk out in dark beyond me. Creased, under tyranny of love, wanted to unwrite the script in the stampede of sins. Impeachment throws up the shock syndrome. No wish to
Dark ink flows through trembling hands, telling of doom in distant lands with hate as fuel and tyranny it’s goal, the ink seeks to blacken the brightest soul. The sands of time blow soft through the dunes, sullied and tarnished
Blue has me full sway a tide of it clingy as gelatin moving me in short shifts and I without excitement wonder where I tried falling in love my creepy overstuffed stare some non-commercial beauty seeming unspoiled I’m not what
I’m not old. I’m fermented. I’m human liquor. I’m the human fruity When it’s been sitting around for a long time Decomposing Molecules changing structure Fine spirit Body and taste Of the upmost quality A premium blend Well aged My
Words are mighty weapons, They lash you like a whip, Cut like a knife, Slicing you into pieces. Pelt you like stones, Making wounds so deep, They leave a scar, Forever in the heart. They pierce you like arrows, With
The sheer joy, words tumbling, Smiles abound, gestures whirling, And then, when friendship dies, Hesitant steps, mumbled greetings, Quick getaways with glances fleeting. Eyes shining bright, silences rare, So much to say, so much to share, And then, when friendship
This is the Horse Of A Different Color you’ve always heard tell about…well and this season it’s a celebration of the heart…ceremony of the horseman as the gypsies danced you kissed me and I lost all reason and as they
Humankind has been grasping for knowledge from the beginning, fear of the unknown was always forbidding. Why does the wind blow? Why does the sky crack open with light sound and fury? Why do the oceans roil with such anger?
Inside my domain every-one’s there Within my brain thoughts are there Flow of past and present is revolving Circulations of thinking driving me crazy Days are passing with same searching incidents Birthdays leaving us reminiscence of events As more and
From birth to death I am on alter Everything is destined then how can I falter Without no fault I am defaulter Only good faith can be exalter The creation has to follow path of creator Between good and bad
Think a bit, how may be It is loved, could never one see Deep down into his soul It carries thirst of melancholy Wishes wrapped in thuggish threads Coming out of the hellish sea, Trees of these photographs Are said
A wretched little hut still stands. Stained windows, a cranky door. There was laughter in it once, but nobody lives here anymore. Broken down by the waves of time, Still putting up a bold front. Violence, loneliness, pain, people moved
He plagues me Filling my mind with anxious darkness He chases me Haunting me through the day and into my dreams He curses me Young years replaced by pain He mocks me Telling me I am nothing more than a
There was the hunger and suicide. In favor of my brutal truth or virtue of my failure, I do not want any comments on my trauma. Morality has a dubious equation with power, provoking my anger. The days were full
Imagination is the only true dimension; Somewhere which we can form an invention of perfection; Without these facts there is no way to escape our own three dimensional perception; We all dream inside the fourth into which there is no
The world is changing fast and with it the way people relate to one another The manner in which people love their significant others is not to bother Unless there is an ulterior motive like pleasure, wealth or fame to
Great Maker beyond human knowledge. Our time is short. Our knowledge finite. Reality infinite. We struggle to understand. We create structure to make it so. We build and grow the best we can. It’s a struggle every day you know.
Along the way to Washington, a red Indian is still holding in his hands his scalp and a quiver filled with stock exchange, while not comprehending why European prisoners carried old Athens on the ship of Columbus and settled at
Well now and I’m Going for the Gold Not standing in the shadows Giving it my heart and soul Up the mountain, down the road New found determination, no Competition, first edition Not standing, not standing In the shadows ‘cuz
As I reminisce un past songs It brings back the memories The times of laughter And youth Hoping to remember more good days The songs replay in my mind As I search for our memories From our time of youth
Across dark thresholds sleep my dormant dreams, Inspired by aspects seen while I’m awake, Epitome of sweetness, my love seems, That nectar bees seek earnestly to take; A flower bloomed from primal buds of May, And nurtured in the sun,
A white patch on the floor Reminded me of so many things. Sleepless days and nights, Musty, powdery sweat Filled in the room. My room. The silent phone, The slept laptop, Two mute fishes in the tank, Glowed in my
Each day was not so different, But one fine day everything started to take on colours The world seemed to be a beautiful place to live on, But this lasted not long. Leaving all his promises, He bade you a
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
The mood was vile and monstrous, Gloom hung in the air, Walking on fragile cracks of emotion, Dare I speak in converse. Ridiculous to feel fearfulness, Of someone who holds envy within, Can we guide this competitor, To overcome the
She was screaming. I don’t know who that she is. But that she was screaming ’cause, the bleeding won’t stop. The blood was pouring out in the form of clots, and the alcohol and pills were doing a great job.
The girl is an ultra-modern scholar, Belongs with an upper-middle class family. Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly. She reads M.A in English at Presidency University. She is assimilating the ideas of Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron… Fluently speaks