Warrior Poems - Poems about Warrior

I converse with my demons. The monologues are endless, Dark confessions on scraps of macabre memories. My mouth stays shut after uttering blasphemies, I terrorize my ghosts with the darkness of my fantasies. I stumbled before the gates of hell, It's too late — I'll end up in Lucifer's furnaces. The journey will be chaotic until the final breath, No consolation, only incurable...

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Alas, we stood in horror, But thy pride—we stood to honour. Memories passed away as legends, but these heroes are not forgotten. From the gun fires and wild gases, Thou wast the pride of our hearts. Here we are now—hiding from enemies’ roar, yet we cannot flee to comfort; If so, how can we protect our home— Our families, friends, and loved ones, dreamt of...

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Fifty years burned into the marrow of my bones, A life stitched together with fire and fate. Mi Vida Loca, a symphony of scars and rebellion, I have walked through storms that swallowed souls, Witnessed horrors I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy, Yet here I stand, whole—unbroken, unbeaten, ...

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EIGHT BEAUTIFUL LINES Filled with peachy pleasure in parsley pastures I eye eagle elegantly elevate in elongated flight warriors wonder wisely about rising Sun whispering wondrous worldly wishes across abiding angelic appled air spun elves and fairies pirouette in royal ribbons blue with mystics maypoling as kittens mew a mistletoe mist of fat figs feasting true...

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"Faith and Fireworks: Cinco’s Call to Remember" (A Linking Pin Sonnet in Spence Format – Celebratory & Historical) Remember the cry, the cause, the stand, Stand for the faith that defended the land. Land once trembling rose firm and proud, Proud were the voices chanting aloud. Aloud rang truth through valley and hill, Hill of defiance, God’s sovereign will. Will of the people,...

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Spinning a Warrior`s Soul ...

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A warrior mentality so to speak – donning our armor of daily fashion; tinted shades closing off soul-windows, concealing from prying eyes of inquisitive nakedness – we clothe fearing being disrobed truth, such privates far deeper than skin Gucci, and likes, the first line of Metropolitan Defense…. ...

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I’ll stumble. I’ll fall. Again. And again. But hear me loud— I rise. Not with ease… but with fire in my eyes. I’ve tasted the dust… Felt the cracks in my soul. But breaking? No. That’s not my role. Let the night try to blind me. Let the shadows pretend they own the road. But I — I am the lamp that burns bold… even when the wind screams no. As long as...

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Some things you survive without sound. No spotlight, no audience, only the quiet echo of your own breath as you carry yourself through another night. The world does not always notice that kind of strength, yet it is the most sacred kind. Survival, on its own, is a quiet kind of miracle. To still be...

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Was it a clash, a scrimmage or an attack? The warrior was speechless; his name was Max Did they carry armor? Did they throw you down? Did it happen in the woods or in London town? Were they wearing colors? Did they have banners too? Were they booted up or did they wear a tennis shoe? Did they wear crowns or...

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THE CLEAR NOTION OF WHAT WE BELIEVE WHAT IS REAL WHAT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU WHAT BECKONS YOUR THOUGHT YOUR ABILITY TO COME PANIC ATTACKS AND FEAR TO BE BOTTLED UP IN A MENTAL PRESSURE COOKER THE TIMER TICKING YOUR RECEPTORS ARE WAY OFF PACING PACING POINTING CRYING CONTIPLATING SUICIDE WHEN THE DARK...

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Foundation. If your higher self had a voice, what would it say? Something like below, I hope. Salute. Title: Be a Warrior. Mirroring from the Abyss. (A lone voice whispers) My name doesn't matter, My narrative you may try your hardest to shatter You may smirk at my goals and dreams You may try to erase them with cruelly whispered jibes But I...

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In shadows deep, where troubles weave, You stand, unwavering, firm in belief. With arms raised high, in faith, you soar, A beacon of hope, forevermore. Your heart’s a vessel, drenched in grace, In every challenge, you find your place. Through whispered prayers, your spirit ignites, In the quiet...

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In the hush of the morning, where whispers arise, A voice filled with purpose reaches the skies. Your heart, like a beacon, shines hope from within, Anointed in spirit, where healing begins. With every note soaring, like eagles in flight, You weave through the darkness, bringing forth the light. ...

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Like dolphins in the sea People consider themselves as a warrior by being brave Do they really know the feeling? Being a warrior is not only about being brave But to face a everyday challenge From heart to soul The mindset you control The feelings you have To be a fighter everyday Not everyone can do that From morning to night...

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