Centuries Poems - Poems about Centuries

Do you truly believe that I have torn through the centuries with invisible claws, unveiling the arteries of time like strands of silk, only to evaporate into the mist of forgetfulness? That I have ravaged the peaks of celestial laws, tearing the throat of destiny, until its blood wove itself into the fabric of your name, only to unravel like...

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At the crossroads of years, where stones whisper for centuries, Inside unfolds the mystical drama of the self seeking light, Through mazes of thoughts like leaves rolling towards truth. Thirsty souls gaze towards the sky, begging for drops of eternity, On the edges of doubts, gardens grow - guardians of lost meanings, A journey to the core, where shadows are...

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Africa does not belong to the West. Its raw materials do not belong to the West. The banana republics of French-speaking Africa do not belong to France. African immigration cannot be criminalized in the country of human rights. While the entire French political elite asserts in unison with force that the future of France is...

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Oh so found; here I am two centuries into this recipe; within ironic caldron The finest ingredients have been bestowed; in every friend found beyond Based this broth on the deepest marrow of their love; careful memories thought When it started to simmer they welcomed me; I was no forget me not It's warmed by a glow from far...

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Centuries of seeking yet never to find, The one true soul that was like mine. So many souls I have touched along my way, Yet never one to take my hand or make me want to stay. And so I walked through this journey with a smile and loving heart. Still seeking that one...

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In centuries of winter, she stands strong, A woman with grace, her spirit a song. Through icy tempests, her heart remains warm, A beacon of hope, a shelter from harm. Her eyes hold wisdom, like ancient frost, Reflecting the stories of battles long lost. Her hands, gentle yet resilient and true, Weaving dreams of spring, as ice crystals accrue. In solitude, she blooms...

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Several times I have glances of a, Past life in a time that is, So familiar to me, just not this one. The one thing I always remember is a, Woman whose beauty and those, Deep blue eyes I will never forget, ever. It was the age of King Arthur, Camelot and the magic of Merlin. Then it goes away and I'm back, Only...

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Twenty one years a man grows To become a full human. He will battle all life's woes And must prosper if he can. Another score and one years he grows To be now a full grown man. By this time his role in life he knows And has honed his acumen. Yet a score and one years he grows To be fully confident. By this...

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Lonely rain is my lonely ten centuries Why did I see a rain when I was nine years old I feel that the young man feels lonely towards the rain...

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Fields where the bondman’s toil No more shall trench the soil, Seem now to bask in a serener day; The meadow-birds sing sweeter, and the airs Of heaven with more caressing softness play, Welcoming man to liberty like theirs. A glory clothes the land from sea to sea, For the great land and all its coasts are free. From “The Death of...

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Hear my queen a story. In which you are the queen of this king. Name is its love story. I heard you my queen. Hear my queen a story. It's a matter of centuries old. The world was unaware when it was with love. One day then on my road, I saw your beautiful image. The face was illuminated with light. Like you are a princess. If...

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Mourn, you Yazid! cry! A killer should rain inside Until his eyes dry....

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Roman conquest introduced new religion law and customs. Christianization was also influenced by Celtic Christianity and it was sanctioned through the ages. Many of our priests went straight to God as stones thrown on entrenchments, persecuted, tortured, martyred, only because of their faith. They were servants of true God. Were is exoneration of noble and just? Our catholic king, Canute said, ”There is no king but...

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Vending machines- harlots-slot machines. I always put more into them, then what I received. Vending machines -harlots- slot machines....

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Awake, alone, the hours after midnight when thoughts like gypsy spirits roam about the world, traveling through past, present and blank future-- no maps, no boundaries, no roads. Free to roam, a nomad of earth's centuries, along unbarred corridors, uncharted seas, viewing both the close and distant perspectives of nations, thrones, and kings, captain of a time kaleidoscope turning in the curious capsule of...

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