Dada Olowo Eyo
Dada Olowo Eyo
Jun 20, 2013

Better it is today,
My life to lay,
For a cause worthy,
Than a cowardly history.

All of this duality
has me tearing at the seams
exactly who am I to be
a literary casualty
or just another nobody?

A martyr,
Sydney Rianne Bouldin

Truth,
What happened?
When did you die?
A martyr,
Left behind,
To rot.
No praise.

Loyalty,
Where have you gone?
Dead as well?
A martyr,
No remebrance,
Dead forever.

Love, love!
I haven't seen you
Did you crumble?
Not dead,
But dying.

In a world where
Abstract hospitals
Don't exist.
And respect for
The dead.
Has died with them.

'Dust mite Martyr'
Charlotte Reynolds
Oct 25, 2011

Speculation proved
contagious,
misinterpretation
crept silently on patchwork soles
(odds n' sods messily stitched,
tittle tattle did no favours)
like a flu it spread,
hushed curiosities rested
outside ol' Hutch baker's door,
where even a freshly oven'd
batch might strain an ear
or five to net nearby tongue trading,
seeds straining on their brows.

Even those Mother hens
had a cluck or two left in them,
rumours about the
'Dust mite Martyr'
as she was dubbed,
“Does she have no shame,
sitting pretty in Matrimony's dress?”
one heaving checkered breast commented
titling her beak
to gain a better look -

At that shriveller slumped,
an examiner of the cobbles
with such a religious stare
her lids traced stones
within the darkness,
a traveller -
wanderer not to be trusted,
especially not
with bloodied lilies tangled
within her gleaming mop.

To be a martyr
Elizabeth Thorn
Elizabeth Thorn
Jul 5, 2013

To be a martyr
Is to live a doomed existence
I have forced myself to accept that I shall live in solitude

I have learned to silence my opinions
I have learned to shut up
I have learned not to defend myself
I have learned to work without question

I have learned to be hated
I have learned to be nameless
I have learned not to care
Or at least I learned to fake it

I will live my small life
I will kill my small dreams
I will live my small events
Until I die for my small beliefs

To be a martyr
Is to live a doomed existence
I have learned to sacrifice
Because I am the martyr

F White
F White
Feb 21, 2013

I was Loathe
to use a cliche
like 'dying
inside'

until I saw
the Ashes on the
snow

Alas-

this time, the genesis of
my own words
is  just not great enough...

having to reach out to the rhetorical masses might not have been the protective net I wanted-

but it's here to catch me,

unlike You.

copyright fhw, 2013
Allison Wright
Allison Wright
Jul 11, 2011

put a bullet in my brain
for a change
the little earthquakes
all we need for the meltdown
spilling guilty

those of Them
the creatures begging you to believe
leave all but us asleep
the chosen

So to the ground we go.
But with fingers digging deep
and heads downcast
the world will never lack for martyrs.

Open your eyes

stretch these threads too tender

stop the sunlight

start again.

It is the heart that is its own martyr
Emily Jones
Emily Jones
Dec 30, 2013      Dec 31, 2013

They say it's the distance that kills the flame
Puff sizzle and pop
The dying ember of love screaming its last breath
To the stars
The moon

Heavens ears are muted
These wailing screeching tryst
Happen daily
Yearly
The product of love that laid to close
Curdling like sour milk in the jealous heart
Burning like rancid acid
Chinese water torture to the brain
Maddening mundanity to fill the void of meaning
Like monkeys their minds seek to dull it's own screams
Love left rotting

Stinking in the distance that dragged it further spreading the filth
But the distance isn't the deceiver at least one can see the evidence of betrayal
Before it sneaks behind
And stabs them with their own thoughts
Confuse them with their own feelings
And drag them under to feast on their own flesh

No distance doesn't murder
It is the heart that deceives
It is the heart that renders false reality
Blinds the eyes to its own pain
And tricks the tongue to speak
Where it has no place

It is the heart that is its own martyr
The godly victim
Whom's motive is selfish
To kill what wounds it
But it's justice is the death of itself

And these sheets held love
Whispered  melting
Scalding devotions
Held the iron hot to brand itself the dutiful
But in obligation left once more
Leaving blood fresh
The heart murdered once more

Paul Jackson
May 12, 2010

crucified by promises
the empty clip tells a different story
tears will never cleanse these wounds
frozen thoughts and clenched teeth
around and around we go

time stops when i call your name
there is no echo
against my cheek i feel your breath
i want it to carry me away
take me off my cross

it gets harder and harder
it won't be much longer
the murder tells me so
this cross is made of hope
with nails made of promises

Just a martyr for whatever cause you decide to kill t
Moriah Harrod
Moriah Harrod
Aug 28, 2012

You called yourself a man, swinging on the lion with your frostbitten breath
But I anulled what you said, when I saw that the lion was but a mule, and the frostbite just the smoke from your cigarette

You said you hunted demons in the chasm going down, hunted demons from Hell in the chasm going down
But I saw you selling her things in the pawn shop down on East
Are the demons merely what her illness represents to you?

You whispered in my head that you could save me from this bloody bath
And take away the faucet that I want
But it’s coming back, another promise that you broke
Are those ashes of surprise blanketing the cancer that you smoke?
Remove your shoes at the door, leave her eulogy lying on the dusty kitchen floor

Go ahead and board the escalator; take your musics with you
You are not my savior, not the bargain that I asked for
Just a martyr for whatever cause you decide to kill today

 
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