Freestyle Poetry


The gentle keys,

that swivel around our tone.

The softest touch

of melodious play,

riveting through these finger tips.

A tickling feel,

down the ends of your light.

An exploring step,

through the sounds,

you’ve never felt before.


Freestyle Poetry

These eyes despise

what the heart cannot feel

the enemy lies within our greed

in the truth we perceive whatever life may be

in sorrow we see the truth of destiny

with anguish and courage

strike cowards in anxiety

with fear we lead in the night’s succession

only to find the root

of half ended apologies

Freestyle Poetry 

Treasures of the heart

align themselves

with the tendons of the bare.

When stolen from your grasp

They leave behind a tremourous ache.

Clutches of care

emerse their heat

in the spaces between your finger tips

and when they are snatched

leave behind iciest of flakes.

The moistures of faith

embrace the streaks

on your sulking sukling lips

only to drought out

with unfaithful dying fits.

Freestyle Poetry #8

Felt a bit poetic thought i’d let the natural freestyle flow out again. No thinking no revision just free styled one go poetry. Enjoy ! 


What are we-

to be defined.



in these ruthless worldly binds.

Who are we?

to not rebel.

To walk along with their heavenly spell.

Where have we gotten?

whence all the spirit has died.

Where are we going?

to a sorrow-less grave of demise.


Freestyle Poetry

a poem for the ones in struggle fighting for their peace. Run through the hardships and let your lives be free because even when trouble catches up may your hearts content keep you moving on.


In these gentle arms i rest,

the breeze that touches

silver sweat.

Security is a slumber mess,

but in the warmth we lay unscathed.

The irony shall play it through,

when fires burn in ice blue

and frozen over shall we rest.

Warmth at heart,

in shiny dread.


A Special Bond

Inspiration comes in all shapes and sizes. Through a blazing storm on a rainy day or a sizzling summer sun. It is through these small moments we are lead to create works of art we use to represent our emotions. Inspired from moments we tend to live for moments but we seem to forget what makes a moment truly special: a human touch. We aspire so much to experience we forget how to experience, not by living for the moments but living for the people who inspire the moment.

A Special Bond

Her gentle wisp,

a silent spur.

An imminent smile,

all heavens stir.

Her silhouette.

The grace in each step.

a touch of peace

with silver glare.

A reckoning storm,

a dire spell.

the scent of love,

and all is spare.

Freestyle Poetry #5

So I havent posted in a while, just felt a bit creative and thought I should pop in and post something unnamed. sticking to schedule there should be a new Survival on monday and a new poem next week. For now Enjoy !

There is no resting for the free.

the wicked roam,

and feast with glee.

the ashes burn down in heat.

Please take me up

and send the breeze.

These wings they burn

at dire feets.

So fly me up

and let me breathe.