"desolated" poems
Hi, I'm Happiness!
People don't invite me too often.
They live in melancholy, I feel forgotten.
My heart is ravaged by sadness.
Everybody wants me but, can't have me.
I'm simple; they make me complicated.
Sometimes people get unnerve because they don't want to lose me.
Hi,I'm Happiness!
I feel desolated.
I come in different forms;
As your lover, ice-cream, family, shopping
..still I'm short lived in your lives.
Hi,I'm Happiness
I'm in your mind;
not your final destination.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Desolated in the biting winter
Bitter frost masking gnarling wood
In the morning when the sun kisses our heads
Gone are the icicles with a thousand facets
Fragile emotions only whisper
Sorrows and regrets to keep you company
In your consummate solitude
All of which juxtapose your worth
b.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 8:07 AM UTC
To excel is like climbing a mighty mound
So dreary it seems trudging the desolated road,
But I've grown too weary doing inconsequential things.
Lazy to walk, craving for a comfy abode.
Though it's only disinterest that crosses my way
Like a torrent of the mountain creek,
Drowning me in trifling thoughts,
making my journey all the more bleak.
Hope I could find a tree along,
Bloomed with evergreen pomes
Of passion and perseverance.
I'd love to nibble at them for sure,
And regain my lost endurance.
I know I could transcend my limits
And ascend this arduous rock,
If only I took the first step
And started to walk.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
Living on borrowed time
Decision at drop of a hat
Down an empty vandalized street, I walk
through the horror of silence
and silence of serenity
perdurable pathway of life
The ghastly sights
and the rustling gates
scattered people with unknown tastes
emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words
void is profound
down the perdurable pathway of life
Bifurcated roads upfront
my perception, one to hell and one to heaven
the other end of roads, a mystery
I stood there comprehending, while
my mind harks back to before I came
down the perdurable pathway of life
Endurance of a toiler
Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer
pain and suffering he undergoes for common good
loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships
sincerity and humbleness of the bloke
will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life
Deprived of education
desolated on streets laboring
disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury
fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile
The kid's love and determination, will inspire me
down the perdurable pathway of life
Spurn love took her down
Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits
killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality
not a wise choice, but courageous
I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide
Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life
Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest
Reality speaks otherwise
Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought
conscious and hard choices right ahead
The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell?
I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
We thought it was empty,
Until we stepped inside.
The broken dreams and shattered hearts,
The cries of despair,
Lingering spirits reminding us oth their existance.
Empty little down,
Sad little town,
Desolated, destroyed little town.
Sweet little shadows,
Tender little spirits,
Guiding us through the ruin.
They never saw it coming,
Their surprise fate,
Seizied upon them while at play.
Blink of an eye,
Gone in a flash,
Nothing left,
No future, only past.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Lions of this far country,
of this desolated arid land,
exhibited unusual signs of ferocity-
-you could see it in their eyes, the way they moved and how they behaved.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
*Rumbunctious
waves
rolling
one over the other
on the white sand bed,
reach for new heights
like insatiable lovers;
from her desolated corner
on the beach front,
a lone woman
watches their fervor
with an undiminishing
fire of desire, in her eyes
but none to stoke or share.*
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
The sky start shading,
flashlight flicking it all the way,
vehicles honking all away.
I stand day,
among desolated trees.
Bulbs start glowing
Birds cease chirping
Wind still whistling
I stand still,
among desolated trees
Moths start flying in hoping
I too love them tonight.
They crave for light
that killed all last night.
I stand lone,
among desolated trees
My light starts fading as
the dawn starts gazing.
So now I stand on paved
ground turned off,
hoping you do heart me
Is all that I pray.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
Smooth midnight black
Desecration blues
Wandering down a desolated road
With my frenzied mind
Raptured, yet empty
Longing for the end of the night
Yet fearing the dawn
And the eternity of an existence
I may never know
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not! the time is past! Every voice cries, ‘Away!’
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend’s ungentle mood:
Thy lover’s eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away, away! to thy sad and silent home;
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth;
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come,
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head,
The blooms of dewy Spring shall gleam beneath thy feet:
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead,
Ere midnight’s frown and morning’s smile, ere thou and peace, may meet.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose,
For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep;
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows;
Whatever moves or toils or grieves hath its appointed sleep.
Thou in the grave shalt rest:—yet, till the phantoms flee,
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile,
Thy remembrance and repentance and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices, and the light of one sweet smile.
2.3k
I wonder…
Wherever this nebulous varmint is
Here, there, everywhere
Does he ever look to himself in shame
He who leaves his iniquitous stains
For all the hatred he lays claim?
He gives tongue to the anemic, weakened mettle
Wheezing his nidorous, putrid breath into its chambers
Leaving behind his dark, black, deadly whispers
Of desolated emptiness his demonic sinister
He entombs them alive those he perversely abducts
To his Cimmerian, shadowy hell
Slither back to your bottomless pit
You tenebrous angel from purgatory
You don’t deserve a capital ‘A’ for angel
In your God forsaken name
Demon of greed and endless shame
Conjuring up ways to wickedly ensnare those
Who’ve weakly stumbled to their knees
You were cast down from the Great One’s Home
You don't deserve this world to roam
This is ‘Lights Out’
The demise of you and me and everything I used to be!
Don’t hurl me your meager crumbs of wretched love
As you wickedly tally my teardrops in The Mighty’s rain
You menacing angel I recognize your despicable fame
I’m through dancing to your stygian, sooty song
Go back to Hades where you chose to belong
You cheat; you lie with your unlit, callous façade
You Cerberus hound from hell you are not from my loving God
At long last I see behind your lurid, false masquerade
You malevolent angel cast from Heaven
I pray, you incubus, you succubus
Recoil back to your wicked inferno
Go crawling back to your lake of fire
Ye who chose crepuscular, selfish desire
And...
Pathetically became you
______________________
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 6:03 PM UTC
losing thoughts to the margins in
some great depression of creative
outlet. taking inked works from a
revered Shakespeare born of the
Moorish states, filling out cata-
combs of this one's entombed
thoughts. and pondering Paris
of some earlier century, how
those writers flocked together.
how this one loathes his current
centuries other writers.
and these, are we, birds of a feather?
flocking, so to be better caught
by twelve-gauge scatter shot?
perhaps we are of a generation
lost, with blinders grown thru years.
expats stranded in a sea of comp-
lacancy in isolation with warring
souls raising higher parapets for
safety? this one's soul may have
raised too high fortifications,
forcing attrition upon the inhab-
itants. this one's soul may have
slaughtered the others for fear
of a low-cat staring up to
the eyes of its King. and
lone heart-beat echoing off
solid stone walls built of mortar
mixed with sweat and tears from
desecrated - of the desolated - and
now forsaken culture only a
quarter-century out. this one's
dogma consisting of self-martying
psychopomps pre-proclaiming ..
'I went out myself into
an immortal body, and
now I am not what I was
before. Now born in mind.'
this one's canonized martyrs only
seeking migration and division.
seeking the Kepigori for hopes of
retrieving knowledge lost - placed
without qualm of forgetting - the
ancestors bore unto still setting
mounds of clay mixed blood. and
when finally set, when finally full-
formed, when finally upright and
springing forth the common know-
ledge which was taught once in
truth. and, now breaking in thought
while this one's hours rot, while this
one leaves an abrupt end.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 7:41 AM UTC
I’ve never become low on my graveside attendance,
Victim , victim they call me, the moments I’ve been facing are abysmal,
Your voice, mellifluous, makes my world lucid, just like a blissful carnival
You fade away, so far away, in the shades of grey,
These black petals, merely dead, have witnessed a fray
Victim, an element of my soul, enshrouded in a stack of mud, in a desolated place,
My roots are too feeble to read that case
A fragmented mind, my hampered cognition, pictures you in the pleasing attires,
All I know are just my futile desires
Victim, they call me, when I visit your house, and grab those dispersed roses
A few letters garnished, just to seize my reaction,
Almighty has deceived me with his bitter, yet innocent abduction
Your warm breath, ventures me, like a spellbound,
Snivels, ****** tears, soaked up in the soil, I tend to hound
Victim, I’m a victim of my encapsulated love,
A victim of irrational fears, fallible against my taken vows
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
***"Our world would be a barren
and a horrible desolated place***
without:
~ POETS and our intuitive subtle visions
~ MUSIC's universal healing sounds
~ DANCE OF NATURE
~ ANIMAL FRIENDS"
*Poets
Music
Nature
Dance
Our
Beautiful
Animal
Friends*
Reveal Love For Life:
*living with each other
within harmony,
interconnectedness,
love and compassion.*
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
October fifth, the night begets
Midnight hallways of uncertain threat
A whooshing of trees marks ambiguity
The cold hovering beneath my very feet
Sacrosanct creatures in Epiphanius state
With dust in shelves and candles that melt
A frightening woe nigh unsaid nor upheld
Twas an airy voice lurking the dark
Such lush but nothing of any spark
The floors were tilted and web's shifted
Fixated minds suddenly felt desolated
With all the corners of every dorm
She yearns something, finding her prose
Crossing borders, ruffling like a storm
The woeing wind woes as she goes
Nothing to keep, nothing to show
Her runic is fading, losing its tone
It never stopped till morning and all is gone
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC
Desolated in the rhymes of my mind
Isolated by the thoughts left behind
Many wayward dreams fill my head like a book
Rip them out at the seams, not worth another look
It's time to forget the past
Finally move forward, at last
Consecrated in the folds of my dreams
Decimated by the tears and the screams
So much disappointment lodging in my brain
Am I human, and if so, am I insane?
It's time indeed, it's overdue
Gotta live for me and forget about you
Impacted by memories buried deep
Infatuated with thoughts, losing sleep
The time has come, to look ahead once more
Staying sober of you, not like before
I'm through with the history
Ready for a grander destiny
Deep damage from all your savior faire
Detente, forced by the au contraire
Perhaps this vessel sprang a leak
Clean up your mess, I ain't your freak
Dot your vowels and cross your "T"s
The time has come for your release
Imaginary thoughts of you, now gone in the wind
Revolutionary ideas, now ready to begin
Picking up your missing pieces, shattered around
Never lying to myself again, you brought me down
I fell, it's just the ugly truth
Never again will I fall for someone like you
Time has come and gone for us
No more unum, just e pleribus
Many moments and many tears
Seems like a waste of some good years
Time to part and heave a sigh
Time to say that last goodbye
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
On a dark, dank desolated street pavement
Stands a street lamp.
Made to guide those in need of the light.
Groomed to be brave, fearless and unwavering
Manufactured specifically to be aids
In the dark times that the city faced.
Served its purpose in the many years it stood
Lighting the way for cars as best as it could.
It shone for carriages, for kings and queens
Keeping them from harm whilst vesting the unknown
It shone for great leaders in the front line of their battles
Served as a safety sign for everyone at night.
In recent times it’s started to flicker
On and off and on and off and on and off it goes
While the mist in the streets grow thicker
No longer did it hold its eminent glow
Neck seemingly bent unlike it’s natural curve
Once flawless skin covered in blotches of dirt and rust
Its wires exposed, veins pressed against the skin
No more muscle or fat hide it
Vandalized by the impurities this world had to offer
Seemed as though it’s the people it kept safe that turned on it
He deserved a better way to die.
Not buried in forgotten memories and set aside
It served a great purpose in the hopeless tears that everyone shed in the dark
Now uprooted and thrown in the junkyard
More or less to be used like scrap metal like the rest of its kind.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
My happiness is
Four-legged, wrapped in fur
When she's with me
All my sorrow gets blur
After a rough day
When I get home, in complete despair
A wagging tail waits for me
to give me hope, to wipe off any tears
She waits for me patiently
And never does she complain
When she jumps and kisses my face
She erases all the pain
Early In the morning
when coming out of bed seems so dreadful
She is there to wake me up
with a heart, so joyous so playful
I encounter unconditional love
Every now and then,
Here I feel desolated
Here I go to her again !!!
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 7:00 AM UTC
By Me, the Great Duncan
Fickle and ever indecisive,
Destiny such a mistress
Taunting at my soul,
Yet,
When it shines in your favor,
Such a shine, shimmering with your jubilation for everyone to see
Hopeing was now a tired act,
Always the same night, same time,
Deep in sleep wanting nothing more,
Than to wake to someone,
Anyone to just ease this,
This tragic ironic loneliness I had put myself in
"Why?!" I screamed to the heavens of my dark ceiling,
Calling a question that mockingly,
Never was answered,
Yet
No more,
Live,
I whisper to the glass and grass,
Flowing and burning,
Mimicking the nights,
Speeding by,
Blurs on a deserted and dark, desolated highway, thumbing my way down,
Trying, searching,
For the tell tale signs of destiny,
Shimmering on the horizon,
Till,
Finally, in a bar,
"Let the night begin!" We yell as we begin our hunt,
Laughing, yet always on the scout,
Never seeing her,
Passing oh so close,
Almost!
The clock ticked down,
Closer and closer as Destiny,
That fickle mistress of my nightmares,
As deemed fit,
I met her tonight,
For all my cries in the night,
For all my past failures,
For all the ones lost,
I would find the one,
I've been asking for,
But only just,
As the clock,
Ticks,
Down,
Ever,
Closer,
Till...
She smiles sweetly,
I see her, only her,
The rest is blurred,
Distorted in the wake,
Of the beauty,
Radiating,
Only for me
Another smile,
From on high,
Destiny laughs,
We embrace,
A sigh,
Happily,
My question answered,
"Why?!" I had screamed,
Her,
Destiny answered
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 4:05 PM UTC
In the garden, which once bloomed
Is left with dry leaves and weeds
Unattended by any gardener
Shrubs and hedges grown out of proportion
Even the walls have been claimed by poison ivy
No visitor here, in this forlorn patch
Dried and desolated, bereft of all the juice
It can’t sustain beauty anymore
Reminiscing, its heyday, the bird’s paradise
Variety of flowers, thronged by bees
Sweetest of nectar have once been tasted
The wooden bench, discolored, and weary
Once part of the romantic words exchanged
Between lovers, and a place to rest
For the elderly couples, trying to revive old memories
Garden itself is now a part of memory
Listening to so many anecdotes, happy or gloomy
Yet, the garden, was paradise once
Welcoming everyone with open arms
Now past its prime, it’s in a dilapidated state
Not a soul to tend its broken heart
No one will be there, to mourn the loss of paradise
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
Her mind was still spinning.
Still a sinning poor girl just passing through.
Walking hopeless and dead into this world full of nothing,
but a slipperiness.
Only to get for a sad kind of
desolated disaster
that's waiting for her
on the other side.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
Emotionally desolated,
Socially isolated,
Sexually frustrated,
Mentally incriminated,
Physically dilapidated....
Spiritually segregated.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
Sometimes my identity,
Feels like my enemy,
A charred carcass of the artist with Bohemian symmetry,
It feels like my brain leaks from my ears,
When anxiety has poked holes,
My nauseous kicks gears,
But in the sky,
I study these black helicopters circling ,
A merchant clergy demigod machine that can grant me serendipity,
Am I that peanut gallery displaying a wickedness grimace?
At the show where the iceberg never sunk relationships?
I'm just poorly cataloged,
And I'm here with a lion in Oz curse,
Dispersed into realms where courage is brought in a hearse,
Now let me wish these helicopters,
Were an implied gesture,
Mankind and nature divorced in court,
That's why I'm messed up,
So to the wings of machine mystique please come true,
I am desolated greatness on the apocalyptic ground below you,
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC