#hivepoems

Ashes of Liberty A cold wind howls through hollow streets, Carrying whispers of power dressed in deceit. The towers grow taller, casting shadows so deep, Where the seeds of fear are sown to reap. Chains

Dancing with the Waves When the sky paints the orange color of dusk and the sea reveals its secrets in the whispers of the night the waves are not guests they are poets from the blue depths. It is not

Promises at the Foot of Time Every twilight sky crochet orange dress traces of the sun embroider the wounds on the horizon of the soul. The wind whispers about wandering the sinking light but never give

There is a quiet corridor where the seconds of planting seeds of the tree of time growing wild in the barren land. You are free to choose: to be a farmer of hope to sow dreams in the fields of destiny

A wounded heart is a gaping ocean where seeds of wisdom are sown by the silent winds of sorrow. Like a morning frozen by dew untouched depths but each line reflects the light that has been lost like the

In the midst of the roar of the city that never sleeps do you hear the screams of the wind? Not from the sound of people jostling but from the silent valley that cracks in your chest. Every step is a fallen

Each fallen leaf is the tear of the season slowly dripping a painting poem on the chest of the earth that surrenders to receive. The fading green is not just a farewell but a symphony of the last sacrifice

In the Embrace of Rain Rain, like a wounded smile falls slowly, touching the hard earth. Every drop is an unfinished story writing secrets in an unspoken language. It is not just water but pieces of lost

In anticipation for the wonder that will be created with my sweet man.

Menstrual Pain can be terrific, I dread it every once or twice in a month.

Tribute to the one

This poem discusses the oddity and misery we cling on to without even realizing it.

The voice of the fare of judgment speaks.

“Gboom! Gboom!!” Bullets spilling into the air; two on her head, and that was it!

Haiku poems

Betrayals of mortal man. The sadness therein. The mortality of man, the gothic heart of man.

Goodnight, community. I found this space a few days ago, and since I'm a poet, I wanted to share with you my verses… I'm glad to be here, and I hope you enjoy my work. I Have a Friend I have this friend.

Don't fall into the trap, of spending all that you make with the hope that you will be making some more later,

I am here again. Rain.

Happiness is here!