Destination Poems - Poems about Destination

Know yourself If not People gonna Write your story Forgetting your history But just for their glory. They make you feel Like you're nothing Just to make you lazy Feeling above you Then act crazy Making you the villain Just put you on surveillance. Steadily watching Your moves and motives So they can put you On slow motion Causing confusion Leaving you...

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Before you ask The answer is no I will never surrender courage For a place of defeat and storage I will not abandon faith For a worthless attachment to an uncertain estate I refuse to relinquish love For a well-fitted but counterfeit glove I cannot renounce my goal For a destination that ambushes my true role I will not forsake confidence For a river that runs...

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Beauty merging with peace ...

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A journey ends, so far, so wide, A quiet place where souls reside. No one knows just where or when, But we all must go there in the end. The stars still shine, the wind still blows, Where you have gone, nobody knows. Is it a place of peace and rest, Where only love and light exist? But in my heart, you stay...

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There is no destination, only thresholds that dissolve the moment you step through, And horizons that retreat with each step that brings them closer, a play of shadows and light, To chase completion is to pursue a mirage, a cruel alchemy of longing and illusion, Where dreams intertwine with reality, and time slips through fingers like sand. Perhaps the...

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Like a Wind. Bon Voyage,Love to grasp. In return happiness I find. Like a Regal Aura of Current. From place to place,Slowly and Gently. Only to Find a Land to Rent. I hope for Love. Better days ahead. Peace so Priceless like a Dove. Written by: ESV.TIMIPRE BRIFINI....

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A pitch black road A bus filled with strangers but one destination Tranquility and uninvited peace It's the journey to the motherland for the first time I get to breath in the air of home and feel wanted Because it's home it won't matter where I go I will still belong.because it's home the sand on the ground...

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Walking on orange clouds until I can't feel without instructions. Tie the tourniquet as tight as you can as I take in the spring air from my window. To grieve my past self would require energy that is assigned elsewhere. Loneliness is my only inheritance. For everything else I use hard cash. As my spoon loses its shine to...

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Rough cut pieces of wood bearing many splinters, they shall be a portal through which all sin enters, blood soaked nails being constantly driven, one set of nails that will have a story written, from a sapling these pieces of wood were chosen, a destination to end stained a color of rosen, part of history that will never be forgotten, a mark...

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So when you are in my life. And you have created a map with a star on the destination to your heart. Know that I might get lost on the way, missing billboard signs and road signs. But most importantly, missing exits to return home to myself when the traffic jams and honks are too...

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Each one an event in oneself part of the whole: we live in the world the world lives in us resurrected from death to life from life to death implicit time not designed but designing quest, courage, love hope, faith, beauty nature, universe, god all fused within us delayed revelation too part of living taste the rage know and move the destination waits....

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All the people from the village are on the same pilgrimage and they know that they must all go with the flow. It's always been the same story for each generation has the same destination in the quest for glory. Everybody ends up at a spot on the hilltop under the big bristlecone pine tree located in the middle of the cemetery. It...

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A tall baseball player with a bat, he knocks it clear out of the park! Whilst other boys sit so comfortably at their home, he is a Varsity player, under bright lights, in the dark! So goal-driven, a handsome senior, with his own car, how responsible is he! With a room full of trophies and shiny, ebullient, joy filled,...

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As this train will come to a stop unexpectedly in the happy hour, And the station is a thousand miles more, yet not there but, The urge to go back and book again, but how? True, nobody can know, nobody will know That Lions and bears cry too And they crave just A little love...

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Until the satire makes you happy, Until the exhaustion seems glossy, You need to prove it somehow, That you are not unknown anymore now! Until the feelings hit hard on your chest, Until a stranger can hold your waist, Until an unknown can call you by your surname, Until you play something that does not look like a game; Until you are jealous...

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