Free Of(P) Poems - Poems about Free Of(P)

There’s a light beneath my voice Not made of flame, nor bound by choice, It flickers soft in silence deep And guards the dreams I long to keep. A whisper forged of ancient fire Unseen by sight, but strong in choir, Each breath I take, it burns anew— A vow to always walk with...

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The rain remembers sacred names Etched in dust and carved in flames, It weeps for those who dared to stand With calloused hearts and outstretched hand. Each drop a verse the skies once wrote On burning hills, on shattered hope, But still it falls, a balm, a sign That grace returns in perfect time. ...

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Life comes from the living ones But death? Where does death come from? Does it come from outside? Or it comes from within? Does it start when we are born? Or walk with us throughout life? When we start crawling When we start schooling When we fall in love When we get married or When we are on the edge of life And nothing makes sense Not...

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I stitched the stars with thread of gold To bind the wounds the ages told, Where cruelty broke the world in two— I gathered light to sew it through. The needle sang a lullaby Of souls who never said goodbye, And in each seam, a prayer would gleam: That love outlives the darkest dream....

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You are not broken—you are bloom, A garden grown through ash and gloom. Each petal bears the mark of grace That time nor terror could erase. I built a shrine of wind and flame To house your sorrow without shame. Here, rest awhile—your truth is safe— In sanctuary’s sweet embrace. ...

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Slowly I walk along old path Miles and miles up the hill Until the sunset wraps the sky In red flames The river beneath Flows peacefully Its tranquil embraces my being Into a shy silence My anxious mind wants to rest Birds around sing about life So detached is the soul From the body As if you are eternal Timeless moment Beyond toxic reality Longing for something I am missing - Your tender...

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We speak in light, though not in tongue, With glances flared and silence sung. No alphabet could ever hold The stories written in the soul. Yet still we try, with breath and fire To map the stars of our desire, And every word, though lost or plain, Returns as thunder, shaped by rain....

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Raindrops float on her face Like a tender kiss She never had before Her passion – How much more romance is left Life is brief There is a star up in Heaven Deeply nested in her lonely heart She talks to it every night Its beauty is ethereal She still loves him the same The eternal bond is so unreal It gives her the wings of a...

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A little Indian boy Was born immature In the soft fragrance of Irish summer A noble star in the sky was shining To notify the busy world His first cry was heart to heart And joy to joy for everyone Time flies over us With its infinite memory shadows Soon he had his First smile First crawl First tooth First walk The baby boy became...

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I'm tired. Mostly of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired. Of being disappointed with society. I'm tired. Of individuals with no integrity. I'm tired. Of greed and corruption. I'm tired. Mostly of being tired....

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God’s justice necessitated that my sin debt be paid. This debt wasn’t something that I could resolve. I can still recall, the simple prayer that I prayed. I said dear God, forgive me, a sinner. ...

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Dear Eos, I wish I still felt passion in my heart toward the generous soul that you are. You always saw beauty in the world and painted strokes of life with a brush of sweetness and delight. I am sorry for the suffering life's put you through. The heart is a fickle thing. It simply was not meant to be. We've walked...

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Saracen princess, Blackened corridors bathed in honey hold you in high esteem as you dance in flickers, eyes raising the death toll every time you envision your body against your next casualty. It pleases me greatly. Could you cross into that other world with me? Our souls have traversed the morning sky, searching for the...

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Caught By Surprise Not writing a poem for years is crazy work, But she is my motivation. Standing ovation. Demanding no replacement of her kindness, Her energy caught me by surprise, But not blind sided. I see HER. She sees me freely with no judgment. I love it. I mean I love HER... My thoughts of her are poems picked from the most loving poetry book...

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THE PUPPET'S DREAM* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sunrise. The puppet stirs, yearning. “Oh, to feel warmth of the morning sun, to shed my strings, to be laid bare to be more than mere display ...

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