Feeling Injured
Feeling Injured
-Under the Shadow of Power
Wind from the darkness is silent
There’s nothing but passion and sad
Fierce my heart
Sensitive words was injured by the heavy mind
Who streaming from the wound is not the dead blood
But the lively hope
Passion is the flame burning in the ice
But in reality dream can not wonder
In the place where it was born
Mind, the weak in shivering is still dreaming
How can he enter his paradise from reality the hell
poem by Snowheart Warlik
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Related quotes
Burning
When I look at you
I melt like a candle
You light a fire in me
What am I to do
I just hope I can handle
The heat and the smoke blinding me
This feeling, this fire
This burning desire
Is raging its way through my soul
And if you feel the same
Help me fan the flames
til were burning out of control
Burning to know you
Burning to show you
And Ive felt this way from the start
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
You kindle in me
A warm glowing feeling
A spark and a flicker of hope
Its more than a game
And like moths to a flame
Were drawn to its warmth and its glow
These embers of love
Are fueled by the notion
This could be an eternal flame
Consumed by the blaze
I fear its too late
cause this torch that I hold bears your name
Oh, and Im burning to know you
Burning to hold you
Its grown to a flame from a spark
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
Oh, Im burning with passion
I do hope its lasting...
Ive had so many dreams fall apart...
And its burning a hole in my heart...
Im burning
Oh, Im burning
Mmmm, Im burning oh, I burning ooh
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion Is Power Transformative
passion creates no choice
passion productivity produce
passion desire compels excels
passion is power transformative
passion is creation seductive
passion is emotive abilities
passion is mind romance
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Reflection Of Passion
Gently on my way I sway-
Suddenly came a gaze,
Lost in the passion, I never say nay.
Smiles unveiling sparkling dentiton my confession-
I'm tied to linger in the phase,
That lost in the passion I hold not back my emotion.
My heart swings in pleasure I can't measure-
That I cannot... But follow the chase,
For lost in the passion: to catch a litter of her glitter.
The dance of her beauty a reality-
I'll live to solve the maze,
As lost in the passion I quit fight of the sight.
Drawn in this affection my submission;
For I dare not call it a dream, but a reality in ream-
Caught in the faze,
I'm lost in the passion of my emotion_
So I vow to bow.
poem by Okoronkwo Jonathan Jackson
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Understand What I Mean
The wind keeps the air crystal clear - the
antique glass lamp with shiny reflections
the brightness lifts up my heart and
keeps it there
Lying in the sun dreaming, a dream that
carries me through everything, making it
enjoyable to be alive - I told my beloved
of my dream
He said the dream was me; a delightful
reply, I slyly laughed - I did not tell him
everything - too much vanity cannot be
confessed, but
With a dream in my heart life seems
beautiful, without dreams I am dead
inside without power to smile - so
please forgive me
All non-physical powers who can read my
mind, I apologise for dreaming so much
I adore reality as benevolent and loving
and wonderful
I only need dreams to create myself as
I can't find myself anywhere - only in
dreams there is space for me, I do
not exist in life
- Do you understand what I mean?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Passion of Fire
My heart was started by a spark,
burst into flames.
Now I am like a lamp on a hill,
everyone sees me and my passion.
I'm on fire, I'm burning bright.
You made the spark,
kindled the flame,
gave this fire the passion of the night.
Its burning bright, through the night,
its never going out or dimming.
Its the passion of the fire,
its the passion of life.
The life you gave,
was meant to amaze.
Now with you in me,
I illuminate the darkness.
I'm on fire,
running with the flame, the passion
touching people,
letting them catch the fire, catch your Love.
It never fades away,
this passion deep in me,
it'll burn till the end of day.
poem by Mistral Love
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Shivering With Passion
Shivering with passion
Shivering with passion
As soon as his lips on mine
Lust creeps up my whole spine
His large hands playing on me
All inches of body aching for more
Keep up your powerful skill
Withdraw my resistance out
To make me without any will
Just panting for him
Shivering with passion
Total body compatibility
No other way of serenity
Let it be let lust overcome
Any hidden upcoming fear
Throw and shut it out of mind
This passion is burning me blind
his touching with such dexterity
Absolute tremendous sensuality
Shivering with passion
For the moment nothing counts
Than feeling his real desire
Taking my body as part of his
Demanding responding his way
Waves of pleasures splashing
Into my very internal caves
Nobody ever did it so right
Till his soft open lips aroused mine
Shivering with passion
When starting to wet within
Asking for more to be explored
Pit in my stomach vibrations
Tongues searching to restore
Lost sensible sensations
Stretching in wonderful ways
Whole of myself arching
In pain to absolute surrender
Shivering with passion
Only once in lifetime can one find
Such a total flesh connection
This thirst and hunger of mine
To renew the encounters
More and many more times
How will I ever have the strength
To leave this outbursting lovemaking
Once consumed behind
I shall always shiver with
A certain kind of passion
When in the future surfaces
sudden warm thoughts of that
love making of the past
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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The Passion Fruit
[The Passion Fruit]
An epic Stanza a Dream if Might the cruel fates play tricks on the love longing mind. For Hope was the plant and Passion the fruit of the hearts implore. And love, Love is the Rain of all growth and for everyday a little rain must Fall.
The Dream of Dreams is to be loved in return by the one you dream of most. And so, her love grew for him as she saw the figure of his shadow in the corridor, and heard the deep soothing sound of his voice. And alas, She sought the longing in her eyes would at one point be returned by his. She knew at this point would be a point of no return.
Love can drive you to do incredible things; it seeks the soul, mind, and the spirit. And just as beauty, love is in the eyes of it’s beholder, for each person love comes differently, by the way they receive it, the way they give it, the way they earn it, and the way they see it. Each is its own plant.
For her it was the Passion Fruit.
She showered this fruit with love, and heartened it with hope. At last the fruit was brimming with Passion.
It was the Passion Fruit.
It was filled with Passion, but it was lacking light.
The light of restoration in which she would finally see the longing in his eyes as they were in hers.
And although she filled it with everything else there was no light, and No plant can survive without light.
Without light there is no hope and without hope there is no plant.
The passion in her eyes became a dull place in a bright world. For in her world there was no light in which to see, and no hope for it to be seen.
And so she faded away.
The day she would leave all passion behind, all hope, and all cares, she told him the story of the Passion Fruit. How it loved, laughed, and lived.
The words she said to him before her final farewell were, “When all seems Dark look for Light for there is always Light you just have to find it. Remember Hope was the plant and Passion the heart’s wish, it’s fruit. And love, Love is the Rain of all growth and for everyday a little rain must Fall.”
“But don’t forget light, for without light you cannot see the rain of love, and without the rain, a plant will cease to exist. I have Finally found my light, but alas I have already gone through a dark tunnel.” These words she uttered before she took her last breath.
He never forgot, for secretly she was his passion, his light, and his rain.
He eventually found another, but he would never love her, for there is only one love, for love is jealous of all others. So, he loved but once and the rest was just of like.
On his last breath he said, “I have found my Light, but at the end of a dark tunnel, for there she is waiting for me, my dream of dreams.”
“My Passion Fruit”
(c) 2006
poem by Kelsey Neystel
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No Tommorrow.
it has gone and it has come everything and nothing reality unravels it self around me it is big it is messy it is dark it has no light the light has escaped along time ago in aplace far away where light never goes u follow the darkness the eternal of silence feels good it clears u of thought and mind body and soul u are weightless u are airless thoughtless u follow a rythym of a heart beat that u know that not goes anywhere where u know u feel the rain fall the heavy drops pour on you as u escape back into reality the one time feeling of escapin all of space and time the responsibility of not doing much of or anything at all the light of nothingness is weird strange and confusing hearts beats of all and heart beats of none the dead tell no tales u die u goto nowhere u go straight to heaven affer a brief stint in hell u know that all or nuthing u wanan goto a an eternal paradise onna desert isle and b there for all time sake lost in thought lost in everything for tommorrow has died for you
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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Dream of Passion in the night
I had a dream last night of passion
but when I awoke and realised it wasn't a dream
but mmmmmmmmmmmmm - a night of real passion
the evidence all around me assured me
it was real mmmmmmmmmmmmmm
sweet dreams are made of this.......................
but in reality is even sweeter..........I had a dream
last night of passion
Damn! what a nite............................. I had a dream
of passion in the night
poem by Precious Scott
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The Dream-Ender
His eyes have born witness to many a glorious place;
His heart has gained privity to an ardor that time may not erase;
His mind has fashioned his dream's amorous reality;
His soul briefly exalted in this wondrous causality-
Though, he may never truly be allowed to live the same;
Yet, he must believe that once again this chimeric flame
Shall alight upon him, and never falter or fade again, from his sight-
To once again serve as his beacon, through the dark, lonely night.
He shan't begrudge the dream, for its lack of punctuality-
To do so would be to accept an alternate, lesser reality.
What for to dream, but for to exalt in its splendor! ?
Aquiescence in the face of same would make him a pretender;
He shall never embrace a lesser dream, nor its surrender:
He may never live his dream, but shan't be the dream-ender!
poem by Maurice Harris
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A Girl Called Passion
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
So I want you to know that I was born to love you,
Each day of my life is meant to be looking at the moon.
Love is like magic and it always will be,
My love still remains strong as never did.
Love works in ways that are passion and strange,
And there's nothing in life that love cannot change.
Passion can transform you Into beauty and splendour,
Your sweetness and grace can be always tender.
Your passion is unselfish, understanding and kind,
I love you with my heart and with my mind.
Your passion is the answer that everyone seeks,
Passion is the language, that every everyone speaks.
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
poem by Gianni Pintus
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Hopelessly Lost A (January)
Feel the tingling in your heart deep with in
the pulse of the Spirit with in your body
the beating pulse of blood rushing
the deep stare to which your eyes gaze
Feel the burning of the passion
the crying of your soul for everything
the righteousness burning at a fury
the deep words which cut my heart for you
Feel that feeling that is so sweet
the tenderness that is everlasting
the passion in my soul for you so deep
burning burning burning just for you
the love between me and you so strong
hopelessly lost forevermore which i do not ignore
poem by Branden Aeling
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Enter My Dream
Enter my dream, baby,
Enter my dream.
Jung river wont you stop for me awhile,
Hold me like a sleepy child,
And take me where Im bound to be.
Im walkin on the wings of make-believe,
Im livin out the fantasy,
That I know well,
Ive been visitin there all my life.
cause you see,
Happiness finds me sleepin,
There I know I go beyond reality.
Itll be effortless and easy,
Somebody take me there.
Im livin in a dream, baby,
Livin in a dream.
Ill play for you,
Youll play a tune for me.
A masterpiece of harmony,
That everybody here can do.
A hundred writers pass the words along,
And suddenly weve made a song.
That sounds sweet and clear,
Something every dreamer can hear.
And we sing,
Happiness finds me sleepin,
There I know I go beyond reality.
Itll be effortless and easy,
Somebody take me there.
Im livin in a ...
(instrumental)
Enter my dream.
Youre waitin for the wind to start to rise,
Well take a look, and close your eyes,
Away to a place every dreamer can share.
And thats where,
Happiness finds us sleepin,
There I know I go beyond reality.
Itll be effortless and easy,
Somebody take me there.
Somebody take me where,
Well be livin in a dream, baby,
Enter my dream.
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The desire of the dream
The desire of the dream
~
What thoughts of wanton passion
burn deeper and more fearsome
than the stirrings of the heart
that untamed tempest of desire
playing out wild fantasy to the mind
embracing the wild mystery
which exists in the unknown
~
what thoughts of wanton passion
are kept locked away
there, only for a dreamt escape
the touch of flesh against flesh
a kiss unlike any other
sweet mystery embraced and held
such passion felt, thought
burning deep in unchained heart
~
the stir of a day dream
a thought flight of fantasy
into the burning of a passion
unspoken and untouched
a few if any have realised
the desire of the dream
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The things I love with a passion
I rock and roll with passion
I talk out my soul with a passion
I eat good food with passion
I defeat bad mood with a passion
I sleep well with passion
I weep hell with a passion
I dream endlessly with passion
I gleam ceaselessly with a passion
I aim for money with passion
I do the same for honey with a passion
I listen carefully with passion
I glisten dutifully with a passion
I search for fame with passion
I research to blame with a passion
I walk everyday with passion
I talk and play with a passion
I embrace life with passion
I face nightlife with a passion
I laugh out with passion
I chaffe about with a passion
I cook with others with passion
I look at mothers with a passion
I touch gently with passion
I clutch tightly with a passion
I work hard with a passion
I rock mad with a passion
I gear up goals with passion
I stir up roles with a passion
I make friends with passion
I take weekends with a passion
I love kissing with passion
I love teasing with a passion
I make love with passion
I take from above with a passion
If push comes to shove
Label me old fashioned
For these are things I caption
In life with all my passion
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Existing As Ideals
Dreams need no corporeality, a
dream fulfilled becomes one-
dimensional reality without
power to draw desire and
passion through us
I love dreams as ideas, romance
as mirage, an image in the mind:
therein lies its power, a vision to
be filed for later use when it fails
to entice
Materialisation shrinks infinite
dimensions of enchanting
vision, I cherish dreams
until threadbare,
I love
Ethereal ideals as Quixotic
schemes fighting windmills:
idea reigns supreme, reality
is but weak reflection of
grand ideals
Lamenting impossibility of love
means we miss the joy of
illusion and dreams
inspirational only
if unexplained
We live life in little routines
while existing as ideals
within a holographic
universe…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dreams
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Reality of a dream
A light conversation,
With only the ones we trust
The vision of happiness
A settled place for ones heart
The reality of a dream
Some no not were to start
The door we may rather leave alone,
For we fear the pain of disappointment
A guessing game without the answer
The reality of a dream
Runs hand and hand with
the reality of fate
Except both or walk away
Hard work with all but success
And years laid to rest
Be a curse this idea
This dream with its fears
From deterioration to motivation
The dream can be delivered
For the reality of a dream
Is that...........
Without reality there is no dream
poem by Morgan Bodden
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Plastic Passion
Plastic passion is a hard to handle
Plastic passion is a sold out scandal
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is the ladies lover
Plastic passion is the marble mother
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a diamond delight
Plastic passion is the nadir of night
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a hycoscine heart
Plastic passion is a transparent tart
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a gold guarantee
The plastic passion is murdering me
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dreamer's Poet
Dreamers dream
dreaming that
all their dreams are dreams;
and is reality then multiple-shaped
or itself a dream?
If dreams are things not real or true
or don't yet exist
then what does it mean for dreamer to
act upon the dream and bring it forth
into reality?
Was the dream just reality
not yet existent;
in waiting so to speak?
Or was it live
always there
waiting to be discovered?
Seems to me
this is much like a poem;
how the poem comes to be-
unless, of course,
the poet
is a dream too,
outside reality
paradoxical conundrum
don't you see?
And more:
could it be the Dreamer's Poet
in dreaming thus
creates the Poet
and the Poetry
both of which
become Reality
Thus?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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