Baskadia

"WHEN THE NIGHT DIES" (A Short Poem by ALEX O'BOR)

From dusks till dawns The sunrise and the sun dies Everyday is smiles and frowns Time flies, Life dies and phoenix rise WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll wake-up and then embrace my labour suits Lace-up my touring boots And walk-up my paths on the soily sunny miles WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll walk my dreams in due times I'll make haste whilest the sun shines And drink life from the pool niles WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll sing hosana hosana to the deity I'll recite my psalm-ons, for i am awake Because maybe some

Forgiveness

The hardest word to say, The hardest thing to do, But it's the only way To set yourself free. It doesn't mean you have to forget, Or that what they did was okay, But it does mean you can let go Of the anger and the pain. Forgiveness is a gift, Not just to the other person, But to yourself. It's the key to healing, And it's the only way to move on. So if you're holding on to anger, Or if you're struggling to forgive, Just know that you're not alone. It's a process, and it takes time, But it's wor

"Eternal Embrace: A Love Poem"

Summary: "Eternal Embrace: A Love Poem" is a heartfelt composition that captures the essence of a deep and enduring love. The poem explores the power of affection, the beauty of connection, and the transformative nature of love. Through vivid imagery and evocative language, it portrays the intensity and joy found in a profound love story.

Live

We may not have the time we think we have.

THE VISIONARY

Night dreams grant me to VisualiZe From being a real me To a Chosen Future Me In a NO Man's Land Executed To Make me Feel like Elevated, With Full Energy to be Assured, Of the two choices occured, In the Future of the Dead,and, The future of the resurrected, The Golden Voice will be heard, From the Unseen underworld, Loudly Shouting Written Words, On the Sky and on the Grounds, With Powerful Thunderstorms, Shaking every Point Vigorously, Trust me Nobody will Know When,but, The few minutes of the

Poem

It a love poem to a ladies

You Are My Home

Home is not a place but the one we cherish.

My best poem

Nice 👍 love you

"Roses are red,skies are blue

Roses are red, skies are blue, In this love, our hearts find their cue. Roses are red, skies are blue, Hand in hand, our dreams come true. Roses are red, skies are blue, Like stars above, our love shines through. Roses are red, skies are blue, With you, every day feels new. Roses are red, skies are blue, In your eyes, I see love so true. Roses are red, skies are blue, Forever together, me and you. Roses are red, skies are blue, In your embrace, my worries undo.

MEMOS

Darling mistress of Nirvana, One whose ecstasy brings fertility to the mourning mud. The reason of my own Had I abandoned thee To the reminent of this world? Certainly don’t agree. Let my departure Exhale no dereliction For the cause I had to upheld. The story I wish you could infer. Gregory have no say in this. The cambium of world chaos With his Catholic convey. I’m not at home with myself What is worse than death? Letting you go, what a torture. I crave for switch of fate, Where this never i

A Little Light to Brighten Your Day

When the clouds of grief gather and the world appears to be dreary, Remember, you are loved, and you will find your path. Take a deep breath and take a look about you. Take in the beauty that surrounds you. The birds in the trees are chirping, and the sun's rays are reaching the ground. Allow the small things to offer you delight. The scent of flowers in the garden, a child's laughing, and the warmth of the sun's beams. Take a minute to be still, and fill your heart with the hope of a better day

The Other Man's Tragedy

A page from The Songs Of The Other Man from Songs of Lexicon.

Poem

The poem "the driver on the highway",is symbolic. It protests human being and the social world. As humans,the resolutions we make, impact our social setting. Hence, we should be mindful in decision making. Subsequently,we are the driver in our lives. The directions we control life to take result in our success or failure. Like the car, impact on the highway so our lives have effect on the society.

MOTHER

Poem - MOTHER By - Ansh Pratap Singh (Auradeus)

Crushed Can on the Football Field

I'm a crushed can on the pitch drunk up empty What day it is? maybe half sunny half rainy What stadium this is? I can never tell The teams that clashed I may never know Maybe Barcelona versus Liverpool Or Manchester United versus Chelsea Each assumption leads farther from the truth The player that drank me might have been one... Probably a player from the losing team Though lifeless I could hear him quake within. I may be just a crushed can on this football field But every creature has it's own

Broken 💔 and bruised original poem

Broken 💔 and bruised original poem

The Isolated Porcupine

A poem about little porcupine

New month prayer

Dear Heavenly Father, We give thanks for a fresh start, As we enter a new month, Let us have a thankful heart. We pray for guidance and strength, To search for better days ahead, Lead us out of times of distress, Help us to know when to take a rest. We pray for faith and resilience, And for others, may we share Your grace. Help us to use our time wisely, And see Your goodness in each place. We thank You for Your everlasting love, Your presence that is always near. Your goodness remains unwaverin

The betrayal

In shadows deep, where friendships fray, Lies the tale of trust led far astray. Once, they wore masks of loyalty so tight, Yet beneath the surface, darkness took flight. Their smiles masked secrets, their words were veiled, In the garden of friendship, treachery unveiled. A dagger concealed by a friendly embrace, Betrayal's bitter truth, hard to erase. They whispered sweet promises, a pact so sly, But their deceitful hearts harbored a lie. Behind your back, they plotted and schemed, In the realm

THE THIRD WORLD POLITICIAN

Here he is, The big man. He flaunts his money, To show the masses His affluent and wealth. And the rumours spread, That the big man, Was not a businessman. "But what could he be". They wondered. Which occupation, Made you as rich as a businessman? It was not carpentry, Nor was it bricklaying, Or blacksmithing, Then suddenly we knew! The big man, Was nothing but a politician. An occupation of the privileged Who never got tired of their occupation, Who did more bad than good, Whose personal intere