Weeps Poems - Poems about Weeps

The question hangs, a whisper so light and thin, When God is weary, deep within, All his strength deployed, from all the strain, Who will hear his sighs behind the rain? Screaming behind the thunder's echoing boom, When shadows gather, sealing gloom? When burdens crush his mighty frame, who will ask for nothing, Though you know his...

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The alley shivers under broken light, puddles cradle forgotten stars, midnight forgets to weep....

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Snow falls silently here On Pahalgam's mourning hills Pure crystal white turned red White flakes bear witness to loss Each one holds a mother's tear Snow remembers all Innocent faces frozen In time's bitter glass Terror's footprints disappear Yet snow preserves the sorrow Through snow-capped...

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The Moon weeps, not for me Not for my misery or lost dreams Not for my shallow self or missing memories Not for my mystery or burdens of thee Not because I am one with nothing Not in the years living in turbulent seas The moon weeps, not for me It weeps for the loss It weeps for the...

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Beneath a sky once soft and blue, Now painted smoke, a darker hue, The cries of children split the air A lullaby of deep despair. The earth, it shakes with fire and flame, But none can tell the world who’s to blame, Innocence lies in crimson pools, While tyrants play with warlike tools. A mother holds a lifeless hand, A father searches through the...

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march weeps for humanity i drew a sketch of march number three on my calendar shaded orange and brown leaves and freedom, walking away like a dejected soldier me, with a tear in my eye i never pretended to be an artist my art was merely seen from my eyes looking into others and yet when you turned away i could only lay my brush aside march...

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Israel weeps beneath a wounded sky, where prayers once rose like incense, now swallowed by fire and dust, buried beneath the weight of fallen stone. The streets hum with ghostly echoes, laughter turned to silence, dreams turned to rubble, love turned to names carved in grief. A mother clutches a child's shoe, the other lost in the smoke, a father’s hands—once builders— now dig through ruins,...

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Over ink-drenched pages shadows crawled Filled with tales of the broken who dared to fall Tears thinly coated the weak and weary lines Blurring the edge of truth with pain and glory intertwined Through every ink smudge a story’s shape takes form A tempest's tranquil eye documenting the storm Wept-on pages with stories yield a heart laid bare An ink-stained...

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Love weeps for the wilting rose forgetting its thorny pain...

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In the twilight of life, when the sun weeps its rays on the reddened sky of memories, I feel how autumn weaves its golden and rusty web over the garden of my weary soul, Each falling leaf is a lost second from the hourglass of our ephemeral existence, And the wind whispers elegies for the time that slips...

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In deep nights, when the moon weeps its shadow on the windows of the soul, My thoughts slip along the thin thread of trust, woven from spider silk and shattered dreams. The eyes of the world, opaque mirrors, hide untold secrets behind cardboard smiles, And I, a lost traveler on the land of friendship, vainly seek the key...

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"There is nothing in the desert ... and no man needs nothing." - TE Lawrence ~ providence … vast-upon-vast ... Deucalion, gifter of cities, met do you not now see your charge? 'tis upon the peaks titanium white - aching, ancient arias borne by a thrush find their proper reports amid canyon vaults built by the hand,...

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On a gray morning, when the sky weeps its clouds, I remember another time, another me, When landscapes flowed from my brush, And every color had its own story to tell. Emerald forests and ruby sunsets, Danced on the canvas of my life, I imagined I could paint happiness, To capture fragments of the soul in every stroke. But foreign voices, cold and...

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From far I hear the strains of a mournful melody It flows from a violin whose strings are about to break As the violin sings, the night carries the music along. The notes tremble, the strings vibrate as under grief It makes such deep tremors in my heart. Its mournful cry is repeated in sad refrains My mind turns emotional, yes,...

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More than 300,000 spirits awakened, and rose up that day, Above the pristine manicured and landscaped grounds. They ascended high enough to overlook the shameful acts Being perpetrated on the Capital’s historic mounds. July 24,2024: two hundred rag-wrapped cowards Afraid to show their face for shame, Stormed and defaced the monuments and burned Upon the ground our blood-protected Flag. Whipping up hate...

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