Unseen poems bring the best collection of short and long unseen poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great unseen rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these unseen poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on unseen are here for you.
“The thunder did flash and the rain did fall, The wind too stirred up and started to creep and crawl. The sky turned dark and the lightening tore through, On and on it rumbled, a sinister grey the skies grew.
Well there are many, many portals and gateways from this world of the living to the WORLD UNSEEN where demons and ghosts walk among us not only in the night but in the daytime too… Could be they’ve attached themselves
The vagabond was once again on the window, Begging love and asking to open the gate, And the fairy inside the house reluctant, Said helpless she was being slave of the fate, First you peep in the four windows, Starting
Astounding pride some exude, In reflection of exterior Little do beings ever realize That Master is all superior. The creator scrupulously must have Decanted, and created the imperial nature. Altruistically and artistically HE has scattered, A little of self in
Can I dare to dream again of happy moments left afar those moonlit nights those wonderful days, of unseen, unknown love coming my way Those dreams we Shared each little fear we dared Only to be washed away by just
To my sweet and lovely mamma with greatest love and respect. My mother is a lady of strong convictions, She loves unity condemns fractions. She is a talented lady of diverse arts,she has a good command on her mother-tongue,and Knows
‘Don’t create fog’, covering truth, people say, afraid of fog, For me, the invisible beauty, nothing to cover, but be here, With me, at least in the morning and evening, as my love, To cover ourselves, as we walk, embracing
I fear this fear The fear of the unseen, untold It gnaws my insides Disturbing my soul Filling me with distress This fear has been a constant Racking through my nerves Shaking me up Rendering me hopeless I live under
O Matchless Artist ! The Creator or genius scientist. You capture my heart with awesome wondering, And surprises, full of applauding. When I see those multimillion varieties of pretty flowers, I marvel at your marvellous designs. O perfect designer———–! You
Where do fly my prying eyes Like a pair of rustic birds ?! Where the breeze and lily leaves Playing game of hide and seek, Where the glossy twinkle stars Wearing anklets and bangles, Where the pretty fairy queens Weaving
Half past five Coffee hits an empty stomach Gun clean, cameo on Headlights in the driveway We don’t talk much on the drive This time is for quiet contemplation Although we try We know we might take a life Most
Darkness shrouds the dying day, turning everything still but the shadows, growing they are now the undead, gliding towards altars for their daily prey. The silence is just a blindfold, the night but an illusion, things unheard best left unsaid,
In the turbid brooding skies, And restive trees beneath, In the innards of my eyes, And in those shadows fleet, you are. In the scented mountain breeze, And the trembling blades of grass, Where the mist clad mountains coalesce, And
As the darkness descends, We find, Ourselves failing. Reminiscence Always reminds Of days , Long gone, Of cataclysms, Barely survived. This tale of Our doom Swears, We never relinquished, Yet this conte Foretells the promises, Of woes Yet unseen. These
Diamonds are because of pressure From dirt from coal and things much lesser Here and thanks to pressure. For you my friends that think you’re lesser Going through some unseen pressure Join me in this Toast to pressure Honored now
Through the wrought iron gate, Emblazoned with an ironic promise Of freedom earned through labour. A promise fulfilled only for the lucky few. Within, dull, threatening concrete towers Survey the inner pen, once filled With innocent men and women, Ready
Bunch of flowers, fresh fragrant showers, timidly waiting for something. I hear a sound buzzing around, Where am I? Where I’ve been? Is it for real? Or, is it just a dream? Tinsel beads cover the trees, and the strolling
Broken and battered here I lie, Seeking freedom from the unseen cuffs, Tranquilizers and sedatives heal me no more, Numbness is what my heart longs for, Numbness is what my heart longs for. Travelling through this barren lands, Seems ages
With endless poverty gleaming in their eyes, Dreams, desires and will to live; Everything has faded to get fled, In a beggar; a living dead, A zombie on the streets. With an affirmative urge in hesitation, Cohesively willing to die
When darkness comes calling, When the secret missive is sent, then shall I seek from you, the answers unsought for life.. When it is time to depart, when death do us part, then will I look to you for that
Fingers entwined resting against an alabaster chin eyes, delicately framed by copper tone lashes, lost yet attentive to thoughts deep within her mind A faint hue of soft apricot accents cheeks while a gentle kiss of rose emphasises pensive lips.
‘Twas on the eve of St Agnes’ Day, When young virgin’s minds fly astray; Stacey lay her body bare To January’s freezing air. She cast her liquid ebon eyes, Up to the boundless starry skies, Hoping to find in that
I wonder what you think Of the human race From your celestial pedestal Above time and space? In our lil’ world that revolves, How long have you been involved? When you peer out through fiery eyes, What do you see?
I had so much fun to be with you! You were wearing shirts in all color blue. We threw crumpled paper like we’re six graders, We ran and shouted like those elephant wailers. Remembering 18th when we played those wooden
The interior with The stillness Neatness and Coldness Of a tax office Is as awesome and fearful As a cemetery at midnight Some unseen eerie presence Is all over spilling the space Of this cold chest One would be in
Mangled manes And battered beaks Broken wings And a life limps And is snuffed out. Glassy strings In the hands of a child, with gleeful faces That see me soar… But his hands covered With unseen blood And lingers the
Getting late on a wet and cold winter’s night, it was a quarter to eleven We had been enjoying the festive holiday since ten past seven Deliciously baked cookies were beckoning from the oven Everyone hoped they would taste like
Her scent wafts alongside her and sinks into my heart; For I have become fixated, by a desire for her touch. She was glorious and overpowering, from the very start; I am hooked and addicted to her love; she is
The town is known as Williamsville; It’s just a tiny hamlet, with one small green, on one small street with only seven houses; but long ago was home to Indians, their children, and their spouses. In honor of this peaceful
I have figured what is eternity, In longing, and boring hours of a day, Eternity could be anxiety, In half-second before a kiss would lay; Could love be measured in eternities? Does love subtract from life for lack of it?
The ocean stretched out into infinity Like an endless dancing bluebell wood Gathered together and wrapped In fluttering silken whispers, Sometimes glowing sun paths Criss-crossed azure memories And once more painted them Into existence, and again Life songs grew close
Like an old wound healed crooked The weather changes in remindful aches With cold breezy chills over sunless hills People…(sigh) I sit Apparently comfortable Advising from somewhere outside of my in Hiding long cold unseen spaces Awakened again with reminders
When I, the passing night would now review, When you were in my arms, of love replete, And which by such, I could only construe, No other night transpired by half as sweet; The moon may have wasted its beams
Walking there on those roads, you were coming with someone else… Its funny how life unfolds, even the best of the efforts fail…! How quickly you moved on, while I still am where I was before… All by myself, alone,