Sanguinity Poems - Poems about Sanguinity

The mystique mist of amorphous ambiguity shrouds under opaque veil the penultimate pathway to the terminal time post in the cauldron of future, obscure. In transient twilight hour sunset swansong resonates in the void valley of life, ...

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In the meadow of innate topography, memory shadows dance to the melody of bliss with the sequined flashes of psychic stardust. The meticulous mindscape of discernment makes the mesmeric montage of the existential rainbow of sanguinity. ...

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Splintered hope shards, despondently adrift in tear stream, reflect the remnant rays of resurgence, designs the last lattice of dream, lacing the listless life....

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Mystique mist shrouds the penultimate path to the time future faded in obscurity. In twilight hour the sunset swansong echoes the tune of forlorn spent life, silhouetted still against the sunk somber skyline. The threads of turmoil weave morbid motif of craving cloud riding the sensuous storm to the blank horizon, once donning fervent hues. The tinged charisma sets yearning canvas...

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Mystique mist in penultimate pathway lost in time future obscure, in twilight hour transient sunset swansong resonates, forlorn life silhouetted silent against the sunk somber skyline. Twirling turmoil threads weave morbid motif of passion cloud, surging with sensuous storm from the flustered horizon, ornate once with halcyon hues, painting chameleon chimera on the blazing canvas of yearning. From its burnt relic...

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Mystique mist shrouds the penultimate pathway to the time future obscure; in twilight hour transient sunset swansong resonates; forlorn life spent, silhouetted still against the sunk skyline somber. Twirling turmoil threads weave morbid motif of passion cloud, surging with sensuous storm to the dark horizon, ornate once with halcyon hues, tinting chameleon chimera the yearning canvas ablaze; from its burnt relic ashes fly away. Splintered...

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Being scared to light the candle, By seeing the darkness beneath it. Isn’t it a bit foolish thing to do? Aren’t we being a bit pessimistic? Watching the half-filled glass of water, And wondering, why is it half empty, Albeit both statements are correct, But aren’t we, ourselves trying to be unhappy? In each and every story we hear, There are two lessons that...

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