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Ties that bind are not easily broken.
What did you inherit in your bloodline?
For the fruit is a product of the vine.
We are the consequences of words spoken.
Our Ancestors sin is not forgotten,
planting seeds that grew into bitter wine.
They may have passed but we still pay the fines.
Their silence left us nothing but tokens.

The curses may last four generations,
but the blessings endure for a thousand.
We want to leave a good inheritance.
Elders to fight we need your confessions.
To dig and allow the cycle to end,
in order to give the next ones a chance.
What are things ? that you got honest from your family tree? the bigger the tree the deeper the roots
I loved you at your darkest
You only loved me at my brightest
Your silent tears were an illusion
As you devoured me until depletion
A thousand curses on the hands which broke me
And a thousand curses on the ones which you see
You will never forsake me again.

Bha gaol agam ort aig an àm as dorcha
Cha robh gaol agad orm ach aig an ìre as soilleire
B 'e manadh a bh' anns an deòir sàmbach agad
Fhad 's a bha thu gam ithe gus an robh mi air falbh
Mìle mallachd air na làmhan a bhuail mi
Agus mìle mallachd air na fheadainn a chi thu
Cha trèig thu mi a-chaoidh truilleadh
Orion Jul 2019
Whispering in blessed curses
Under whine-tilted breaths
Fluttering eyes and furred chest
Beholden to a man left nonplussed

Begging and borrowing
Stealing burning touches from dewy skin
Whimpers cried into pillows within
Nails digging and hitched sighs following

Soft, searing serenades seek
Saints die to find heaven in something more
Dying small deaths for a moth adored
Writing patience with circled fingers over tongue and teeth

Pupils pulled into tiny beads
Staring up through lamplight lit lenses
Some bruises kissed splendid
Neck-, shoulder-, and lip-bitten pleads
(2/18/19)
Twaffle Jun 2019
Shattered glass, endless scream,
taunting curses and horrifying dreams.
The little girl stares, her dead and clouded eyes
directed to the two arguing figures, spitting truth and lies.

She hugged her stuffed toy, as tight as she could
as she glance at the table served with cold food.
Where did it go?...she wondered,
the loving parents that held both of her hands.

Daddy, the most respectful man she knew,
was now hitting her mother, punching and kicking was now nothing new.
Mommy, the most warm and caring person she have known,
was now spouting bad words at her, with her cold eyes she've shown.

Was it worth it? To argue and yell in front of your child?
To let them see this kind of nightmare that will hunt them for life.
Fighting won't resolve anything, and spitting random curses of words will just destroy 'everything'.

Now tell me, was it worth it?
Many children have been victims of this kind of environment, and unfortunately some of them have strayed to a path they've never wanted to go through.
Jon Thenes Apr 2019
Tattle calls
Curses amongst the Merchants
They hack of new seasons
brided with ill weather
These social breaks
that cement their business relations ;
A ****** of Tongues
A Jinn
A wit that flees port
Fleas to the ears that scout town.
Toxic yeti Nov 2018
I have no past no present and no future.
I am a ghost.
I am the walking dead.
I pray to god for my own death.
End this mental prison that
I am cursed.
Gifted with a curse
The words I converse
My poetry they reject
The truth matters less,  
They hate it
It’s The Lies They Digest
Gifted with a curse
Kenlum cares less
He says it
Truth
Danielle Jun 2018
Death, that lonely tarot card.
A silent grim specter
No one wishes to see.
It impinges upon the norm.
Egyptian curses scarier, more real.
Lacelike spider webs, the coldest steel.
Leafless trees, silhouetted against the storm.
Efficiently bringing portentous change.
The Death card has always been one of my favorite cards, because it represents change and sometimes change is just what is needed.
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