Blood spilled
Tears streamed
But no matter how much you beg on your knees
That’s what war can be
The child cried as his mother’s body lied
With the building burning to ashes
Ashes to the ground, as you hear the child plea
But alas that’s what war can be
The man strangled out cries
As his dying breaths suffocated
Underneath the collapsed building, trying to flee
But alas that’s what war can be
Remember the father who starved himself so his children could eat?
Who had been stripped from his luxury?
His happiness, his love? Who wanted to be free?
Is that what war can be?
What about the brother?
Who lost his leg, saving his sister from a shooter?
What about the sister?
Who died so that her brother could survive his gun inflicted blister?
What about the children?
Who think the parents went to the store?
Only to have the parents in a Ranger’s view
Lying on the ground, blood seeping through
What about the men and women?
Lined up, not knowing their final words
Tears prickling, not being able to see
Is that what you want your people to see?
But that’s all fine
Get the victims in a line
For it’s all for honor
For it’s all for power
What do you think
Goes through the people’s heads?
Oh how great is our country,
For being torn to shreds?
Or oh it’s fine your son died,
Even if you had cried
All this bloodshed is just insignificant clatter
to such an elite matter
What about the bloodshed?
The dead families?
The orphans?
The starvation?
The pain, the agony?
The tears?
The lost homes?
The children living in fear?
The bonds broken?
Is it all worth ego?
While you bet the lives like a gambling casino?
Imagine suffocating slowly and painfully, still having so much to do
Imagine watching your mother die, right after she attended the stew
Imagine holding your child, trying hard to erase all doubt
Imagine living a life, where nothing goes right and about
Imagine seeing your school friends cry
While blood trickles from your thigh
So go on with your slaughter
But remember the mother
Every eye you made shed salty water
The sister
The brother
The father
The farmer
The doctor
The peasant
The teacher
The student
So hold your ****** weapons up high
But remember
That once blood is on the hands
it never fades or becomes dry
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 8:15 AM UTC
He made an expression he did not feel
And pretended he had no gashes to heal
For one of the three had to be sane
And pretend to not feel pain
He displayed emotions he did not know
He did not subject and went with the wind’s blow
He had plentiful to say
But he kept his judgments gray
The slyest are the most broken
The silent are the well spoken
He recognized it all too well
And so, his ego could not swell
The sun had set long ago
And the melancholy moon was the only glow
The only nimble of hope
The only entity keeping them on a durable rope
He was the only contestant left in fate’s game
And was the set aim
He had his cards lay out
Though even the wisest had their doubts
Would he live?
Would he thrive?
Or would he drive himself mad?
And give up faking to be not glad
They say you cannot change the past
Though he knew he would not last
If he were to dwell in his secrets long
He just needed to hear a song
The lullaby of a songbird would bring
The justice of a king
And the game of fate
Would soon be set straight
For it is the story we have all heard but never learnt
The one where friendly rivalry burnt
Two pits of gold
One bad, one bold
A path lit leads the way
Choose wrong and your loved ones shall pay
So choose your fate’s date
Tick tock, it’s getting late
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
Her pleas were a song
Continuous, poignant and long
For who would hear her inaudible pleas?
Chained up in a tower, pleading for keys
The tune was a lullaby
No matter how much anyone was to try
The songbird was imprisoned by the immortal agony and revel
She’d made a deal with the devil
Not knowing of his penalties and tricks
She knew what’s done is done and blunders are difficult to fix
Though even to the most oblivious it was clear
That she was to waste the rest of her immortal life in fear
And so, as she seemed to her subjects as mighty and great
Her own verdicts, her foolishness and actions were like a hefty weight
She wore them under her own skin
Incapable to bear her own sin
Her reflection was something she could not see
For all she sought to do was to get rid of its provoking face and flee
Her soul had been sold
For everything around it, was damp and cold
The devil is not someone rational they told her
Alas she did not heed, therefore misfortune she did stir
The contract was inscribed in blood
And now she was a fearful flood
No one heard her soundless cries
And saw her endless tries
No one heard her hushed pleas
And saw her heart freeze
But her soul had been imprisoned in everlasting misery
And all she had was an aftertaste that felt bitterly
The bitterness of life
Had cut into her humanity with a knife
All she ever aspired was to find meaning
Not turn out to be demeaning
Or be the motive people sealed their doors at night
And why men carried guns with fright
She may have been the fiend of the town
With a malicious crown
But all she craved to be was an angel with wings
Though all she did was dangle from the devil’s strings
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
It was intensity in the eyes of the beast
With his romanticisms and optimism ceased
Gashes, cut bottomless within his soul
Who, would possibly aid him as a whole?
The king who had executed blasphemous quantities of sins
And pride fully worn, his foe's skins.
Could not be comprehended and eased after all
He lived to stalk, persecute and brawl
For behind all the masquerades and shells he wore
It was against himself, that he always swore
At the break of dawn, he held a face
In the midst of darkness, he could not sense, embrace
A battle came forging against him, he felt grim
Though it was not his form which was to be dithering, limb by limb
It was his trepidation, his need to stop his despair
Oh, how he craved to vanish into thin air
For he realized that the only thing meaningful to him now
Was for his annihilating words, to be a vow
A vow to soon meet, the eternal light alas
For his heart had become, into brittle glass
The light was his way out
To permit him, of his emotive drought
And so, as the stars blazed up in the sky’s high
So did the tears, imploring, to be let out in both his eye
How far more, would he suffer?
How much longer, did he have to be a bluffer?
The possibility of freedom, is all that made him wait
Little did he distinguish he was just another prisoner in the chambers, of fate.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 8:07 AM UTC