Tasuta

Сложные стихи на английском

Tekst
Märgi loetuks
Šrift:Väiksem АаSuurem Aa

A Love Once Pawned One Can’t Redeem

Two sundry primes, the same phoneme,

Both being held in great esteem.

The twinkling dawn, the dusk agleam,

Their coalition’s almost a pipe dream.

Congruence works with opposites passim, a voice composed of whisper and some scream

If bridged together with a shim, appears so to take one for the team.

Converging lines fade dim before they shine in the extreme.

At distance rise insurgents to the lim to fuse into a single seam.

Each railway’s way too ramified to limn, its paths are but the same raceme.

At seas of mutual fervour in the swim I, notwithstanding, falsely deem

The liquid ardour has no rim, its seething truly reigns supreme.

Emotional debris all over him, impeding, they are not to bream.

With sentiments all deep albeit slim these murky waters teem.

A whole flamboyant, stable whim, a gasoline-like colour scheme.

Contented to the brim just like the cat that got the cream,

A navy out on a limb romances some uncharted blue, so it might seem.

Full sail ahead, sensate the vim, position yourselves on the beam.

Together, fully fit and trim, drifting no more under one’s steam.

Against or with the flowing stream – it matters not for a bireme.

Make history, use up another ream, it is ongoing like bloodstream.

It wouldn’t hurt to only skim If claws of life carved out your theme.

Should it be blatant or just mim, don’t be afraid to ink another rheme.

Like schizophrenic who denies the sym, the course of nature thou blaspheme,

Refuting stiff its prim though yet well-predisposed regime.

Reversed Compatibility

Think twice before the poignant sunrise revealed your secrets in disguise.

Don’t melt unlit sunset is set to come through internet.

An afterglow is what I know to stow away and don’t let go (and don’t let go).

How dare you fornicate at present state when trust’s so hard to replicate?

I always knew you won’t obey until the end of my last day.

And now you managed to create a crate of my eternal hate that compensate my woeful freight that you humiliate.

How could you perpetrate my future fate by pushing down my stagnant plate?

I see your lies right through your eyes.

I used to patronize but now antagonize.

A blast of lust that rusts so fast.

You must have turned your past into a perverted vast…game.

You shouldn’t wait until sunset will bring an ardent evident.

Sunrise has come and stream of light just turned my heart into a fright.

No afterglow’s left to remain and now you drain my heavy life lane.

I mold a thought that holds a board captured with gloat on our sinking love boat.

It lurks beyond my comprehending, rending the end instead of mending.

Your harmless hack merged into whack with such a knack that hit my black rack of lack.

I see your lies right through your eyes.

I used to patronize but now antagonize.

A blast of lust that rusts so fast.

You must have turned your past into a perverted vast…game.

You shouldn’t wait until sunset will bring an ardent evident.

Sunrise has come and stream of light just turned my heart into a fright.

No afterglow’s left to remain and now you drain my heavy life lane.

Antithetical Compatibility or Views This World Does Not Accept

Torment deserted regiment, vigilant and vehement, as sturdy as solidified cement possessing a firm temperament, the one that you used to dement, it went AWOL, strayed sentiment of cognitive impediment. It wasn’t ordered simply meant watch you lament the detriment you always wanted to augment YOU THOUGHT OF IT AS MERRIMENT, – worth giving an admonishment.

I failed an only sacrament that was to bring atonement. It was affection I could not ferment, my mouth though still has its sediment; it volunteered to fragment our serene yet ardent settlement. Our love found its embodiment in hideous disfigurement, disturbing my integument unleashing deep embarrassment, I shoulda followed my presentiment.

I’ve never tried to confiscate things that I tend to obfuscate – curving the lines that should be straight, turning austere to ornate; it’s my addiction that has always been innate, so that I could elucidate the way I think, my mental state, it’s my desire that I cannot sate – what an atrocious stalemate as if I didn’t know whether to fish or cut the bait, more than a burden – a deadweight, my very fortress, my estate – venerable and intricate, the one that you alienate for it’s a jail where I am an inmate – non antagonistic and sedate.

I’ll never know your colours, I’m an achromate; your truth for me is vague and bifurcate. Our relationship’s a feud that I cannot placate, we mourn the loss of a clean slate. You bury what I excavate – a little hint to give me the gate. You cannot stand what I still venerate, my ideology from which I’ll never deviate. It’s our bond we desecrate being so fractious and irate. Those are the thoughts that devastate what we’ll never reinstate, a field where we could be cognate.

Why extricate to dump the freight – rubble which is agglutinate and is reluctant to abate. Then aggravate its dormant hate that once was locked inside a crate, motionless as though a snake invertebrate. Resuscitate my inner trait, nourish what’s been attenuate, allow to abominate the virtue they incinerate