Will Poems - Poems about Will

There will be days when no one will grasp the depth of your hidden feelings, and that's okay, a silent complicity that embraces your soul like a cloak of mystery, days when your words will get lost in the ether, no matter how loudly your heart longs to be heard, and that's okay, an echo that returns only...

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When poets fall into silence, humanity will lose not just its voice, but the very essence of Life, soaked in the pain of fallen kin, surrounded by the tumult of fears that dance like shadows on the cold stone-like asphalt, a poet dips their pen in tears of silver. He had a name, a name that echoed like...

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When problems come, we want to blame God first! But the truth of it all is your actions put you under a curse. The Bible says when you obey God, all will go right. And when you do not, you'll struggle most of your life! Cursed are all creatures who choose to disobey. Everything in the bible, written to show...

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Kyrielle Sonnet They search, phones held tightly, spellbound moments parting in the background phone screens, maybe the newest pill Time won’t stand still, is this God’s will? They’re seeking this life’s cutting-edge is it their hearts and souls they’ll pledge? from where they stand, life’s all downhill Time won’t stand still, is this God’s will? They know that life moves by, passing finger on...

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I am my own keeper I was made in my own design My skin so thick I am armoured My convictions unwavering I stood my ground And I am proud of myself I'm going to make it I'm going to fix it all Life will be worth living again Because I have decided I am not afraid...

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All those who chatter behind my back only confirm that I'm moving forward. I don’t slow down— their criticism, their slander is my fuel. Disguised applause from those who never had the guts to walk in my place. They have no purpose but to judge—everything, all the time. Whoever is behind me will stay there until my dusk. No one lives inside...

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It feels like spring has left these feet, My steps come far less quickly now. I find less solace in the load, I find it easier to bow. Yet in your eyes there’s no defeat, And still with you I walk the road. ...

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The past has always been a foreign country, step ten decades into the future and you will be an alien. Time takes no prisoners, the past wipes out legions of beings, their humanity is a thin cloth whipped by relentless winds. This country of ours is a body with endless names, generations that we make and remake with foreign hands and minds, even yesterday is a stranger...

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"Where does it hurt?" she asks, clipboard like a shield, pen cocked like a firing pin. "Here," I say, pointing to the silence just beneath my ribcage. Not the lungs. Not the liver. The place where sorrow goes to calcify. They send me down long corridors, all white noise and flickering fluorescents— like memory on a bad day. I wear a gown that opens in...

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I will not rage against the world, It has already done its part, shattering me into pieces, I will live with what remains, quiet and honest, free, I will win not to prove, but to feel alive, I will drink not to forget, but to savor the moment. I will sing not to impress, but to free my soul, I will...

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Will you walk with me, when my step has slowed? Will you hold my hand, along life’s winding road? I dream of growing old, in a cottage by the sea. The sunset years spent, with you and me as we. Two forgotten lovers walking hand in hand. Two sets of footprints in the morning’s sand. The call...

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Spinning a Warrior`s Soul ...

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Who will make the bread if everybody is dead Who will get the children out of bed and get them And put on their shiny shoes and take them to school If everybody is dead who will cut the lawn When I wake up at dawn and just before the break of day Who will wipe my tears away the...

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2025.5.5 It was the 5th day of winter. Somehow the weather was still warm, It tickled my travel's bones. Yes, I went all the way to Queenscliff Geelong. I came here several times in the past, But missing to climb up the tower part. With it magnificent 360° clear view, I circulated the platform along the glass windows. My time of arrival was coincide...

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"Paint with paint or paint with words." By Poet As a small child I loved to paint, finger paints brought my plain paper to life. As a teen my painting moved on, on to painting by numbers. In our first house I painted the many walls. Paints come in many pretty colors, some very bright like the sunlight. Paints can come in pretty...

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