Desolate Poems - Poems about Desolate

Shadows stretch beyond a tree where to and fro an empty swing drifts of memories so long ago... Rain beats down upon my mind a cold chill drifts no longer a child I hear the sound where echoes call a moment in time lost for now Fragmented facets unlatched receed drifting away no longer feed a love...

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Desolate... The wind howls through hollow trees, empty echoes in barren land, where time forgets to leave its hand. Desolate... Footsteps fade on dust-strewn ground, no voices call, no whispers sound, only silence, vast and unbound. Desolate... The sky weeps with ashen tears, stars extinguished, lost to night, a world consumed, devoid of light. Desolate... Shadows stretch where none remain, forgotten names on crumbled stone, and you walk this path...

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Encased in an isolated castle of an old fool’s paradise, A decaying dagger rests upon a distressed oak table. Frayed book pages scatter across termite-riddled floors. The calligraphy carries echoes of triumphant battles, Vividly etched in ink. A revered legacy is forgotten in decades of decay, Its inked glory...

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In shadows cast by trees that once stood tall The whispers of the past in silence dwell. Where laughter echoed, now the lost birds call, And memories, like echoes, fade to hell. The winds blow harsh, and through the ruins crawl, A haunting chill that weaves a mournful spell. Each broken stone, a tale of grace long gone, In desolate beauty, hope...

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When you're lonely and exposed. Blood, shred and tears. And after all this time that you still owe. And after all the blood that you still owe. After lie, after lie. Nothing, nowhere. You're still a good for nothing, I don't know. And my world, it drifts apart. I know that inside of me, it's a ing ghost town. This empty shell is like...

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A winsome waxing crescent, With a dangling sonata pathétique. In my hollow room, sweet flashes of a floral essence. Her presence is absent and my feeble heart is becoming more weak A precious diamond was found but is now lost. Asunder is this rare jewel, Only my heaving heart can weigh the cost. Now, here I sit in my desolate room. ...

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A desolate trekker who walks undauntedly, Truth moves slowly but surefootedly Through matted crowds of lies, Ever stung by lethal fangs of vice. Her trek through moistureless terrains Unperturbedly winds on amidst pains; Outnumbered by loathing children of gloom, Till the coming of Diablo’s definite doom. ...

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Let me cry let me weep Let roll down tears from painful eyes I am living alone nobody is with me you left me alone in desolate way you went away without traces of feet This world ask me to stop my cry I wanna cry don't stop me to cry Cry is my new partner of life...

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In the desolate temple of the soul, flesh weaves over bone a silent epitaph, Spirits lock thought within the ark of thought, and sometimes, a divine spark, And women in furies pour vessels into fragments of petrified walls, While men submerge self in the deluge of the endless bitter draught, No one unravels another's enigma—and yet we wander, undeterred...

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Hard to concentrate when I feel desolate Will my goals work, or will I start to shirk? But this is far from death, at least I have breath Living a day at a time, making rhyme ...

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THE NEST IS DESOLATE, AND TOMORROW ISN'T NEAR Daily bread isn't enough for breakfast The living quests to save tomorrow So the Eagle left its nest in search of big catch Flying above the pinnacle of the highest trees Beyond the shadows of the distant valleys Set to get to the hunting ground Still...

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moon rise, dusk be gone… iris’ flooding for light shards edges of darkness press tight, just passed bright sails folded. silver rush bathes glistening eyes alone again… heart shine dimmed once more ~ last time …this time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ desolate...

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The blistering sun seers the sand. Time will create a desolate land....

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Sun fire like crimson Blood red at the change of season On a desolate planet of sand A once sea turned to barren land Dust clouds fly high in the atmosphere Sun streaks red, as it sears Scorched dry ground hot to the touch Rocks and craters, rigid and rough Canyons of oranges and gold Nights that get ever so cold The surface is inhospitable...

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Desolate garden spring fades precipitously petals flee with wind...

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