"agonises" poems - Hello Poetry

There's immortal. And then there's Eternal. I've read of immortals - I've read of their exploits, their battles. They bleed. They agonise. They fall. And one day they fail to rise. Eternal is different. Eternal bleeds, agonises, falls and dies only to rise - Eternal.

0

Dec 29, 2021

Dec 29, 2021 at 3:50 AM UTC

stevejeff

Eternal

There's immortal. And then there's Eternal. I've read of immortals - I've read of their exploits, their battles. They bleed. They agonise. They fall. And one day they fail to rise. Eternal is different. Eternal bleeds, agonises, falls and dies only to rise - Eternal.

16

Can it be just love that tears our paper thin heart apart? Can’t it be sorrow, or despair of mistreatment too that shreads the delicate ***** Can’t you see that demeaning probes and hineous accusations are like fatal scabs that slowly halt the battered heart? Must we be so inconsiderate with words and actions thinking that the heart is only for romance when Love encompasses a tantamount of relations of all spectrums. Nay, this heart of ours be it of gold if it were of a loving disposition, be it of paper of the ones disappointment by Life, be it of stone of those embittered by the harshness of Reality, it beats and feels the emotions thrown upon it. Intolerance kills the weak minded and destroys the barely stable; it agonises the strong willed and is pitiful of those who display it. Profanity and abuse are signs of the ones not wanting to give strength rather to ****** the flickering flame of hope that had been stubbed within them. Patience and compassion are the signs of strength my dear do not weep upon thy transgressor but weep for your wounded heart and when you’re done seek strength by giving some in those equally damaged and you’ll see the once dimmed light of your Life shine bright once more don’t give way to hate but love unconditionally whether its a lover or a brother love heals violence does not.

0

Aug 6, 2018

Aug 6, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC

onyxmuse

Paper Thin Hearts (For the Wounded Darling)

Can it be just love that tears our paper thin heart apart? Can’t it be sorrow, or despair of mistreatment too that shreads the delicate ***** Can’t you see that demeaning probes and hineous accusations are like fatal scabs that slowly halt the battered heart? Must we be so inconsiderate with words and actions thinking that the heart is only for romance when Love encompasses a tantamount of relations of all spectrums. Nay, this heart of ours be it of gold if it were of a loving disposition, be it of paper of the ones disappointment by Life, be it of stone of those embittered by the harshness of Reality, it beats and feels the emotions thrown upon it. Intolerance kills the weak minded and destroys the barely stable; it agonises the strong willed and is pitiful of those who display it. Profanity and abuse are signs of the ones not wanting to give strength rather to ****** the flickering flame of hope that had been stubbed within them. Patience and compassion are the signs of strength my dear do not weep upon thy transgressor but weep for your wounded heart and when you’re done seek strength by giving some in those equally damaged and you’ll see the once dimmed light of your Life shine bright once more don’t give way to hate but love unconditionally whether its a lover or a brother love heals violence does not.

28

I write because I feel- more intensely when wounds I need to heal life cares not whether it embitters agonises or trips every heel human tears are mirrored in words the litany of sorrowful years adversity spreads like an epidemic but to despair and defeat I'll never yield my poems shall be my shield I know living is never* as easy as walking through a field*

0

Jul 9, 2018

Jul 9, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC

dr-peter-lim

WHY I WRITE

I write because I feel- more intensely when wounds I need to heal life cares not whether it embitters agonises or trips every heel human tears are mirrored in words the litany of sorrowful years adversity spreads like an epidemic but to despair and defeat I'll never yield my poems shall be my shield I know living is never* as easy as walking through a field*

26