Yiruma poems bring the best collection of short and long yiruma poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great yiruma rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these yiruma poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on yiruma are here for you.
Yiruma The piano quietly drifts along, As another beauty quietly drifts from my life… The time is coming to an end, The song; I wish I had the words, To say… Goodbye… But the instrument has nothing written upon the
The wait begins adorned with symbols for shadow to fall between hope and pretension. The moon will talk when the dew returns and clouds are hiding. He will come in a black cloak for a final assault with broken promises.
I saw you walking down the road Into the mundane Could I hold you back a little into a diversion a moment of indulgence unpredictably startling smile on your face and a sweet memory that will make the mundane extraordinary..
today i am not one whole, placid; blood streaked globe of full moon was hovering over me all night to freeze a ruined landscape, i was not ready for the departure, untying the knots of water, like the storm opening
She is within an ever-lasting atmosphere, She is beneath the never lasting core, She prays, searches, hopes and fights, To find this never lasting door, A door leading to peace and promise, She is running out of time, So why
I live an ordinary life, In an ordinary home Built from ordinary bricks Made from ordinary stone. Each ordinary day I wake, Go down the ordinary stairs, Take a deep long breath and smell The ordinary air. At my ordinary
Like ashes stacked in a jar of indifference tightly capped to mask a stench so cruel from cigarette butts worth riddance- you caused me self decay and dismal. You put me out like those cigarettes in an ashtray of cares
I opened my eyes upon the world My tiny fingers were tightly curled My eyes saw the brightness and quickly closed Sounds all around me filled my ears unopposed I opened my mouth and let out a cry As hands
After dousing the bride to a nice flame, in between the howls there were songs. On mud path the hoofprints came out prominently. On bullock carts they had come for a sit in, to resist, rebel or kill. All day
Is it really, ‘just how it is’ in the world these days? Too fast, too bright; too hyped! With an insatiable me, me; me attitude! And there is always so much noise. People in cars, people in trains; people in
She’s our little-fairy-queen For whom we did pine. A wail thro’ her lips Brings us flocking to her crib. To assuage that helpless gaze, On that sweet innocent face. A smile breaks her wail On a familiar face to hail.
In one’s life journey People that comes are many. No one is that which stays with thee Even shadows leave at the light’s scream. Everyone’s under a fictitious cloud Intriguing fancies speak aloud Death awarded at trust’s expense ‘Cause falsehood
Fire smoulders and branches crackle which smears the ground blackish grey ashen Feed these flames that rise and dance around naked orange red and blue with passion The ascension lifts hearts to warm our blood to create a vital archaic
Soul like the angel, Eyes like the devil, A twizted brain burned like metal. She turns her head from left to right, She knows she has the beauty of night They shine like stars They tell a tale, They hide
A night out with mosquitoes for a sharp comment of urgency to end the war after a decapitated unnamed flesh of words found six inches short I can write only poems This very ordinary life appears to be worthless without
Life is a simple play Don’t make it mysterious. All complicated words wrapped into one, Make a bunch of gawky efforts and simultaneous grief. Myriad mementos contemplating miseries, Do no less than to future, humiliation and bad welcoming. That’s what
He returned empty hands. Death was casually running around on charred bodies. Was lank poetry of a ruthless god. The house was on fire after selling its children. The days were becoming longer than life. Casus belli, whom do you
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
Oh, the greenness In the desert… You are the sign of bravery You are the mark of subsistence You challenge the established fate. But, you don’t have Enemies in the desert, do you? Nevertheless, here are Thousands of enemies For
Beyond the storm of screams and groans And cries of a wretched tortured people, Lies a child curled, fists to his ears Consumed by the roar and fury Of a haunted Peace. Sweetening his ears now burned to whitened noise
Don’t you agree with my ability to loosen up on our times in no night? A river thing was flowing through foliaged silence. In deranged hour of the neck tie, you throw up obscenity on road. What? Chicken hearted? Sickle
This war between your flesh and spirit, When it begins you can really feel it. For your flesh wants to do the things that are wrong, But your spirit wants you to sing a victory song! Then you get caught
When darkness reigns, And the light is quite dim… A small voice says ‘hope’, There is lot more to be seen…! It will neither be the end, Nor will it be the beginning… Unless one is steadfast, To embrace what
She tiptoed lightly down the stairs, so quietly and some pause. At only eight, it was quite clear, her sight was on a cause. Her mother’s drawing pad, her brushes, and her paints; her goal to leave behind a painting,
If the thunder roars, and should the lightning splash across the horizon, Or should the earth quake beneath our feet, is it God’s voice that we are longing for? The loud sounds and great displays of natural lightning are not
Past days were awesome, Lost months were like blossom. Filled with love, joy, gain sometimes with tears, rains and some pain. Life like a bird knows how to fly, teaches not to give up , give it one more try.
For you I am walking on rocks holding unburnt match sticks, you want me to throw them behind me. To step down in lake for washing sins from the snuffed out skylights. Between green and blue I climb on leaves.
Gone are the days when faces were buried into books We are now phasing out the books for FaceBook Those were times when kids jumped, played hide-n-seek and bruised knees Now it’s all about swiping, wiping and fidgeting with keys…
A pervasive bareness walks like an honest lie on the road to truth the bone white marble God oversees the planet green’s woes a climate change of heart its manipulations its intrigues something remains unsaid when I look back I