The Last Wish

Hurt —
I always try to pacify my heart,
  But all efforts went in vain;
Took the path that led me to hurt,
  And received the constant pain.

Living with the swollen wound,
  Bleeding at my every breath;
Find no jollies upon the ground,
  Just calling the Lord of Death.

Sometimes dawn never descends,
  And days seem to double;
Sometimes the nights never ends,
  That get me into trouble.

I have no desires to live anymore,
  And so I wish I am gone;
As one has spoiled my life’s core,
  Left nothing to be done.

Poems by: Anthony Hope

Wild Dream

Broken —
Knowing already that we’re poles apart,
I opened my arms and bared my heart;
I often took in heart every word you said,
Firmly believed, on you my love was laid;
I had so many dreams with you at night,
Looked the brighter future, felt at height;
Even for you, I had cried so many tears,
With bleeding heart, pierced with spears;
It’s not your faults for my being broken,
‘Cause everything about me is unspoken;
What we dreamt was just only a dream,
Flowed in heart like one-ended stream;
Love is something, no one understands,
Always we play it with different bands.

Poems by: Anthony Hope ( Ygn )

Foolishness

Hurt Poem —

Were we unknown, or were we insane,—
That madly we both contracted this pain;
Neither you rejected me for being unknown,
Nor I could hide the realities of my own;
The gate of my heart was locked and secured,
No harm inside it and no need to be cured;
Maybe I invited you to make me fall apart,
Or did you ever intend to stay in my heart;
No love in heart, and no thoughts in mind,
Suddenly, we fell for like the stormy wind;
Whatever we did then, cannot be undone,
And the path we have taken has no return;
Will separation give us more than we had,
Feelings are complicated — happy and sad.

Poems by: Anthony Hope (Ygn)

Her Voice

Her voice is sweeter than cuckoo,
And is comforting and loving, too;
He who hears her voice for a while,
Becomes happy and gets to smile.

Either it's magical or celestial aid,
That I went mad, and love is laid;
The more I hear it, the sweeter it is,
I never satisfy, but I always miss.

Neither of human, beasts, birds,
Nor of instruments, I've ever heard;
Can make the sound like my lover,
Hums in my ears over and over.

Angels and demons praise her voice,
Proud of her that she is nice;
Thank to the Creator that she's loving,
Until the world stops revolving.

Several times a day, I call her phone,
When I am free and being alone;
Living is hard until I heard her voice,
Always long for it, and is my choice.

I always wish she was in my arms,
And she be my morning alarm;
T'gether for ever we shall move on,
And our dreams come true soon.

Poems by: Anthony Hope