With The Name Pakistan
after the thrall long and hard
and shadows of blood and odium
with the shivering souls
one night after the eve dark
came an evasive sanctity
and brang here the hope to hope
to rectify and recoup
the land lost
as a heaven on earth
as a sanatorium for souls
with the name Pakistan
poem by Gule Rukhsar

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Related quotes
Sonnet- There Are Some Righteous Ones
There are goodmen who can't be bought with ease;
There are quite some who can't tell lies at all;
There are some souls who want just mental peace;
There are some ones who will not ever fall.
There are some men who labour hard and sweat;
There are some ones who get a paltry sum;
There are some souls who stay always in debt;
There are quite some who take whatev'r may come.
There are some men who trudge all through their life;
There are some ones who sacrifice their lives;
There are some souls who love God more in strife;
There are quite some who resist many wives.
There are some souls who gain heaven on earth;
There are ones who make earth heaven by birth.
poem by John Celes

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I'm Proud To Be A Pakistani!
Oh nation that I love
'Land of the pure'
Orphan at birth
Left insecure
Oh great father lost
Prey to the world
While the good die young
Corruption rules the earth
Hopes are quick lost
Difficult to bring back
One ray of hope:
'The meek shall inherit the earth'
Note: The second line is in colons because thats the meaning of 'Pakistan.' Pakistan is also the 'orphan' and the 'prey' because its father i.e its founder, the Quaid died when Pakistan came into exsistence. he is the '..great father lost.'
poem by Amatullah Areeba Ashfaq

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Truth
They fall through time as a leaf from a tree
Trees so green
Green as life, green as death, as the souls
Souls that are lost, lost forever
Forever in time forever in truth
Truth that shall not be spoken
Spoken by only those who know the truth
Truth that only they know, only they see
See through their eyes, listen through their ears
Ears that have heard the truth, that hold it in their hands
Hands so cold, so hard from truth from hope
Hope that they have lost
Lost as a shell in the sea, the sea of truth
Truth that flows in all of us, everyone
everyone who stands in the shower of faith
Faith that some have lost, some gain
Gain all the truth, hope, faith, love
Love that haunts, love that stays
Stays with us all, stays in our souls
Souls we shall loose, in the battle of time
Time that haunts us all
All who feel
Feel the pain, all who know
Know the truth
(just fel tlike trying a format that my friend said I should try. It has what ever word that a line ends with the next line starts with the same word. EX. you sit in the fire
Fure of truth so I dicided I would try it. hope you like)
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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Oh the despair
oh the despair now that all hope is gone,
and the white doves have been silenced mid song.
the terrible whisperings of bleakness,
in full flowing despair, the room now dark where once it shone
all images of interest now seen through the eyes of a dog
the rainbows of inspriation discoulured by the all consuming fog,
every nerve every sinew every passage of thought,
blocked like that of a traffic jam in a tunnel,
the light of hope falllig then fading,
the still of the room vibrating inside me
it came from where, this despair,
waiting in its black hole ready to tear limb from limb,
there i sat shivering in the cold waters of the sea of misery,
even the fresh flowers on the farm house table,
drooped under the gaze of my hazy hollow eyes
who robbed me, why choose me what was so special about my plans
they was simple and un-affecting to all but me
so upon my bed i lay as the last of my spirit drips away
the uneasiness of the night has crept into the day
oh the despair now that all hope is gone,
the white doves silenced mid song,
in lost souls lobby is where i now belong,
the crows now cackle,
long into the heavy night
poem by Not Long Left

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Blood Hate Reaps Damnation Souls
thermal imaging night vision fog soups
violently blinking are blind ghost eyes
lost human souls drift isolation herds
who hate dark flayed carcass flesh?
who whipped crushed love emotions?
who thorn wove their bitter crowns?
who pinned hopes pierced hearts?
who mad shredded empathy compassions?
who torn sacred symmetry spun souls?
pitch black dark weep landscapes
stand blind herd ghost lost souls
none can see into another's eyes
blood rain drips from bitter hands
hate crimes were life bitter deeds
blood hate reaps damnation crop souls
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Catching Up
We sit on a rock
to allow our souls
to catch up with us.
We have been traveling
a long time.
Behind us are forests of books
with pages green as leaves.
A blood sun stares
over the horizon.
Our souls are slow.
They walk miles behind
our long shadows.
They do not dance.
They need all their strength
merely to follow us.
Sometimes we run too fast
or trip climbing
the rotten rungs
in fame's ladder.
Our souls know
it leads nowhere.
They are not afraid
of losing us.
poem by Erica Jong

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The Citadel of Lost Souls
When souls have completed their time on earth
they ascend to the wind’s highways,
which carry them back from whence they came
to spend the eternity of their days.
It’s depressing to know that many do not arrive,
and become lost on their way.
They become trapped in eddies, storms, and gusts
and some get whisked away.
Soul catchers travel the peripheries of the winds
knowing souls will drift off course.
They guide them to the Citadel of Lost Souls
to become guests of the evil force.
They spend their days tormented and lost,
and without hope, for eternity.
It seems that even when a soul leaves its host
its future has no guarantee.
poem by Orlando Belo

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Souls
It all started here, she was a girl form the midwest
He was a stranger in a strange land
Same old story
He came for the glory
She came looking for a young mans hand
But they found bright lights
And endless nights
And men just used her innocent ways
He found it all so pretty, hypnotized by the city
They lost sight of the reason
They lost count of the days
And they were two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock
Too many nights on the ledge
He acquired a knife-edge
Still the city didnt acquiesce to his demands
Some nights she cried for pity in the heart of the city
The city smacked her hands
He met her one endless night
Her eyes had a light
There was something familiar about the smell of her skin
He held her tighter and tighter
As he danced inside her
She knew from the moment that she let him in
Theyd been two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock
Beat the clock
Beat the clock
Beat the clock
Two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock
song performed by by Rick Springfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without Hope
It's all useless.
It's not what it used to be
Can't you see?
I've lost hope
I've said it
Hope's no use to me
We will all die
Sadly that's not a lie
He will never stop being shy
She will die of loss of blood
He will cheat on her
Hope is no use
Everything has gone loose
Hope is hard to regain
Once you live the true pain
It's all gone
We will all die... without hope
poem by Ana Teresa Sola

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Were There Hope
I was never in a league of noble gentlemen
To whom she'd cast polite and flitting smiles,
Only distant hope and dying dreams for me!
Or perhaps descent into a game of wiles
To give a chance of sipping wine on heady nights
With her angelic presence to declare;
Above, an aura playing out hypnotic hues,
And I in awe of blonde cascades of hair.
But no! my tiring soul is sinking in a mire
To haunt me for an age and evermore, for
How could I expect to hold her silken hand
When I am but a soulless ghost of yore?
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope, hope?
Hope?
Never
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Lost Souls
Lost souls trapped all around me.
Stuck in this oblique purgatory.
Not knowing where to go or what they'll find.
Lost souls caught in a vicious grind.
Bending backwards until they break their spine.
Damn this ugly daily grind.
Broken and beaten such brutal words for token.
God help us please,
the lost souls that are diseased.
We are lost and can not be found,
the souls that are eartward bound.
These souls are lost at such a cost.
There are no freinds,
there is no love.
Just crippling pain that shoots like lightning.
I lost my soul it's all gone now.
Death is the only respite now.
So now I go and grab my gun,
pull the trigger so much fun.
My soul is lost,
no one will care.
Why should they now their souls are bare.
poem by Michael McParland

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Hope may be... (edited) (please comment E.L.A project)
Hope may Be..
Hope may be: us teenagers and our decisions in life; us teenagers in high schools and universities; us teenagers and the struggle of fitting in this big scary world.
Hope is us teenagers and our choice to proceed to new passages.
Hope may be: the kids of this world; hope is the kids and their decision of which route to take in the long run; hope is them kids who will eventually turn this world around.
Hope may be: our parents and what they want for us in life, hop is our parents and the turn we make within the paths they shaped for us.
Hope is the light we need when were overwhelmed by the darkness that over takes our minds and souls; hope is the barrier to protect us from the bad and evil; hope is border between forgetting and forgiving.
Hope gives “elders” a reason to believe that the “dumb teenagers of today” will hold this world together another century.
Hope is a different idea to me than it is to you; hope is different to all of us. Hope is many things; hope is me and you- hope is all of us.
poem by Sam Hussin

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Entitled Hope Mark I
Hope is the light that shines in our darkest nights,
The solely light which dispels our doubts and frights,
Hope is the wind that blows away our sorrow;
A strange wind which take us to a new tomorrow,
Hope is the water that replenishes our dying land
The thing which washes our souls and made us stand
Hope is the wellspring of happiness in our life,
The source of inspiration between continuous strife,
Hope is the cloth that wipes our tearful eyes,
This gives comfort to our endless cries,
Hope is the flame that burns in cold stormy day,
A fiery thing which gives warmth and lit our way
Hope is the burning candle of infinite sacrifice,
Of God’s absolute love that never dies
Hope…
Yet, hope isn’t just like that,
You, hope is what?
poem by Raymond Cabrera

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A Fisher Of Men Jesus Said To Be
In the name of my Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ I offer any passerby who thirsts
the living waters the bread of Christ
wide I cast my nets as a fisher of men
I walk the lake shore I walk the rivers
oceans storms of seas bear witness
fishing foreign shores for shipwrecked souls
even long line will I fisher of men use cast
behind fishing for any lost souls to bite hooks
offer hope eternal piercing into lost life souls.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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I'm Coming Down
From his throne up in Heaven, God looked down on the lost souls of man.
Thousands of men, lost forever, wandering a cursed forsaken land.
Their dried-up souls searching for his presence:
But they were wretched abominations, separated from his holiness.
A select few suceeded in touching his hem, but most were hoplessly lost.
So God, set out through the ages, arrows that pointed to a cross.
As man floundered and fell, he was ever there, preparing his master plan.
A rescue mission for the souls of man.
Then finally the day came when all was set-as men were weeping: no hope to be found:
Said the Almighty, 'Hold on, I'm coming down! '
I don't believe in sone distant deity sending one of three to die for me:
I believe in an eternal spirit paying a ransom for me for free.
My God didn't send someone else to the rescue: He didn't send someone else!
In a fusion of humanity and deity, the God of eternity came himself.
This was his grand master plan, the ultimate sacrifice:
Coming to earth to be denied, mocked, tortured, and killed, all to save a wretched life.
Some people, they want to confuse his miraclulous rescue.
But we preach Christ crucified, bleeding and dying- just for you.
If you're feeling lost, forsaken, rejected. Jesus is still there waiting: ever since he died on a cross two thousand years ago:
When God said, 'Hang on, I'm coming down.'
poem by Joses Tirtabudi

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Ode. Written On The Blank Page Before Beaumont And Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid Of The Inn
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Doubled-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats

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Ode
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wound'rous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease.
Seated on Elysian lawns
Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats

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Last Living Souls
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Take a gun
Or how you say
That's no way you behave
Just a law, a new begin
Sing a song that doesn't sin
And it grows
Hey, you know
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last to get away to some another day?
Do we know
Well, we know
Doesn't seem to be complete
Are we, are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Get up, get up, get up, get up...
What you say?
Cause all I was on
I got it down wrong
I see myself to get
And the Lord, seeing all now
Can you take us in
The part that comin' on
The coldest man doesn't see it's all
We go to the car
I see you walk to the far
And when you get there do you see
You fit the last you need on me
Cause we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
Yeah, we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
song performed by by Gorillaz

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bards of Passion and of Mirth, written on the Blank Page before Beaumont and Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid of the Inn
BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Doubled-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats

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Two Lost Souls
Surrounded by a sea of black.
Not knowing how to find the things they lack.
Two lost souls that need true love.
Noone understands these complex beings.
Their wants and needs far exceed than than others can read.
They cannot see the depth which bounds within them,
they'd get lost among the trees.
Two lost souls that need eachothers trust,
but opportunity has passed things rough.
They need to see,
they need to touch.
Upon these things that they must trust,
to make the thrust into a future robust.
They search and search,
forever seeming stuck in a lurch.
They get to know others,
finding noone they trust.
Overall compatabillity seems a bust.
Two lost souls that continue to dream.
Of the one that can help them find acceptance and pride.
Two lost souls that forever will search,
till they find eachother they know it will work.
To have and to hold,
give all their secrets behold.
Two lost souls who are ready to give,
they've seen it all there's no reason to live.
Then one day by chance in the park.
They looked at eachother ignited a spark.
Two lost souls had found what they need.
A fullfilling destiny that will fill all their need.
True loveand hope that binds them together,
eternal souls with love that causes thunder.
An unbreakable bond to last the ages.
A brand new book filled with empty pages.
Their story is grand and yet to be written.
For eachother smitten.
poem by Michael McParland

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