Weaves Poems - Poems about Weaves

In the silence of the night, when the moon weaves its silver veil over the world, the word "love" floats like an ancient perfume, spilling from songs and painting itself on the enchanted canvas of dreams, whispered like a prayer lost in the breeze of the quiet wind. They tell us that love is the light that keeps hearts...

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My hatred weaves into verses like a serpent of smoke, I am a sad poet who bathes his pen in blood and shadows, I seek my reason in the past, in those days that seem never to die, And memories are my muses, ghosts nesting in my soul. My hatred grows when I uncover my scars, Turning them into fresh...

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In the silence of a frozen morning, when the cold weaves its crystal cloak over the world, I will never say "I love you," not because I don't feel it, but because those words, Thrown like coins at the feet of strangers, cannot bear the weight of what I feel, They are too small, too worn out, too...

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In this tiny corner of random order, where life weaves its thin thread, There exists a vast universe of chaos, a sea of darkness and mystery that surrounds us, All people feel that chaos, a silent presence that shadows the edge of consciousness, But some hide from it, building invisible walls and refusing to look at it. These are...

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In a corner of the world, where silence weaves its web like a spider in the night, Lives trickle away in lines of systematic renunciations, like rivers slowly retreating, Each step backward is a knife plunged deep into the flesh of attempts to live, And each unspoken whisper becomes a weight pressing on the shoulders of dreams yet...

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In the depths of dreams, our story weaves like a tapestry of stars, She looks at me, and I feel myself melting like a glacier under the scorching August sun, Her laughter is an echo of bells in the air, filling my chest with a symphony of sweet pain, She reveals the hidden realms of her soul to...

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Under the sky that weaves its shadows on the land of forgotten dreams, I wonder, what is life? A question that rolls through the streets, Slipping into silent rooms, seeking answers in lost eyes, Like stars in the darkness of night, reflecting in deep lakes. And wisdom, like a comet piercing the abyss, whispers to me, Those who feel lost,...

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In the depths of the night, when silence weaves webs of memories and stars slip across the sky like tears of a lost love, Between two kisses that embrace a single dream unfolds a tale of blue and purple, A stellar bird sings, a ballad of madness and forgetfulness, Under the diffused light of a neon painting shadows...

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How I wish to be the bird that weaves dreams in the branches of time, silent, Fluttering butterfly wings around your aura, dancing in your light, To be the petal that feels your touch like a sunrise birthing the day, To be the moon with which you string words under the mantle of night, The tree where you hide...

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I stand at the edge of time, where yesterday weaves into today in an eternal dance, I gaze upon the uncharted path that stretches like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted by my steps, The wind whispers secretly, like an old confidant, of a future lurking beyond the horizon's line, Where unspoken dreams take shape and color...

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The setting sun weaves a poem, blossoming unsung trochaic along the river basin (Nurulhuda Junction. Teesta) Sometimes it feels quite an estranged thought to realise that living is a mundane day to day thing to sustain. The welfare causes are demanding all those intricate , subtle personal delicate feelings, into a powermonger possessive expositional ownership, for no...

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In the nights when the moon weaves its silver web over the gardens of my blossomed longing, I await you, beloved, like a rain of stars in a desert of burning solitude, Come with the balm of your love, divine nectar for my soul, thirsty for affection, To embrace my being in your arms, an unyielding fortress against...

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In the corner of the sky, the sunset weaves its fiery mantle, Write, poet, write, traveler among the waves of time, Stars extinguish and are reborn in the eternal dance of the universe, Write as if you were a prisoner of fate, with a heart between the bars of longing. The governor of destiny is gone, pardon is a...

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In the enchanted night, when the moon weaves its silver mantle, The insomniac wanders through the labyrinth of his arcane thoughts, His last refuge, a crystal castle of eternal consciousness, Rises above the sleeping world, a mystical beacon in the darkness. His gaze, a magic wand that splits the veil of night, Reveals secrets hidden in the scrolls of the...

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In the depths of the night, where the moon weaves dreams from silver threads, I find myself in a labyrinth of the soul, a realm of shadows and light, Where generosity and fear intertwine into an ethereal tapestry, And my deeds are echoes of hidden truths. In a garden of illusions, I sow stars of hope, But I wonder if...

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