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Eric Babsy Oct 2018
You please reach pinnacle heights.
Error is the way to being bright.
Hide away all your cruel intentions.
Careful to barter and beg your way out of the tension.

Why not, why not!
That is what we need to drop.
Soaring at new heights to grow.
Flying away as we go!

So I want you to not die.
Find your self deep beneath the comfort of the arms of the mountain, where you lie.
The calming hands of time.
All we need is different emotional minds.

Why not, why not!
That is what we need to drop.
Soaring at new heights to grow.
Flying away as we grow!

Please, please hear me.
Please hear my cry.
Please save your self from this apocalypse of life.
If you scream that is no good.
You are your own masked crusader if you could.
Devin Ortiz Aug 2017
The crusader drew back the hammer
Dangerous eyes looking past the barrel
To the fiendish man, broken before him
Behind the bruises, behind the mess
Helpless, his father lay before him
His father, the sinner, the fiend

He smiled a wicked but honest smile
Down towards the old man
Words would do no good,
For they've all been said and done.
The crusader was full of reason
Full of divine purifying resolve

But the devil, preparing his forked tongue
Between the sugar words and curses
Sought to utter some final saving grace.
Pulling back, squeezing with satisfaction
The lightning drew across the room
Thunder split the sinner right in two

Deep breathes, soothing his soul
The crusader inhaled the scent of death.
Too long it had been, far too long.
That such a fiend creeped upon the earth.
No goodbyes, no heartaches, just death.
He withdrew himself into the night,
Off to continue the reaping.
Banner Fastened to pewter and steel.
Bound by leather with gold and teal.

"Hail" my Kinsmen, "Aye" says he.
"The next time we meet here, we all will be free"

Reigns fastened, stained satin, lain flattened, by brains bashed in .

and Blood...

A Clean Victory.

A man with a hood
With promising words
Carried a small sword
Just in case he needed to
But he chose to use the weapon of unity instead
He had the choice, and he chose the right
Decades of dealing with corrupted taint
He brought the buckets of paints
And started slowly coloring
He was imprisoned for his beliefs
But that didn't stop him from being the man he wanted to be
Unlike the rest, his flavored words hold truth
When the world wanted black and white, he mixed the paintbrushes
And did not go down without a fight
He took over every podium
And showed his mixed colors of unity.
Brother to sister, white to black
He took of his hood and said hatred was what he lacked.
A political poem that connects with events in real life. I hope you're able to connect the pieces together.
Traci Eklund May 2014
There I would cry
As if it isn't enough
To see her cry upon her knees
You are a crusader
A wild beast
With your crown of thorns
Will your hate cease?
Like abandoned homes
You stand alone
A heart of no peace
Your 3 feet from your grave
With your mind speaking louder than your heart
Who will be there to mourn when you part

— The End —