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Mark Parker Jul 2015
Faded tree figures loom near,
visible as a smear
on what used to be the Mona Lisa.

The great work of art
goes to waste
as its paint is fingered,
by each person,
like its some sort of photocopy,
covering the masterpiece
with old, dirt, and impurities
that are not naturally occurring on skin.

Leonardo da Vinci would be appalled
at our treatment of his gift,
made to be given to one person,
yet he loved it...
and gave it to us instead.
Now stare once again
at its poor condition.
I've secluded myself recently, and spent a lot of time in thought.
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
Dragon flies and lanterns
cast shadows through my mind
causing jesters on the wall
to cautiously unwind,
with a heavy heart of liquor
I beg them to go on,
do try to heal my soul
its fallen, maybe gone.
Just Me Jul 2015
You want to watch me fall....

But your to late

My knees are scraped and from down here

I can only see one way to go

My knees are raw

So I guess it's time for me to get up...
sara b Jul 2015
Bare that hell, oh Dante's child,
as a crown. Let the flames dance
on your fingertips as you build
your kingdom on ancient ruins.
Light a cigarette and watch the
smoke rise and pollute the
heavens above, the angels
choking on their halos.
When the monsters knock
welcome them with open arms,
streched smiles, and embrace
the beast of your own.  
Scream of the riots, my dear
because you are not the fallen,

*you are reborn.
georje naïf Jun 2015
His arms is where I was taken
His smile was like my heaven
His innocent face in front of mine
That made him look like an Angel
His manly voice whenever he speaks
Sounds like a beautiful melody for me
His tallness was an advantage
He hugs me so tight
Like he won't let go of me
His presence was enough
To give me more courage
And to made me feel so contented
It was simply taken me back
Because that was all a memory
That make me still **Captivated
Perfection is his name.
md-writer Jun 2015
now final loss
is speaking close
i don't know how
but here it is
and fallen clouds
that cannot float
lie scattered on the ground

i look up at the
brazen curve

the ancient cage
of stifled gleams
beats into me

and just before the end
it's all a dream
i cannot seem to
understand

the fire of my heart is hot
but coldness sits inside
and rots
the heartache

why the places that i see?
what is here for me?

beyond the ashen hill
i cannot find
the final resting place
i've left behind

before the void comes can you tell
which way the wind blows

or is it just
a silent stillness
on the land
of iron hills and fallen clouds
and solid sky above?

tell me the answers
that i seek to know

perhaps i'll see
the secrets of
my mystery

or else i'll find in something stolen
answers for a broken mind
to feast on
in the day

at night they ****


but trust me, i don't want to die
the broken mind asks, why this pain and suffering? what is the answer? is it pointless in the end? is it just a barren plain of broken dreams? if it doesn't find the answer the broken mind steals the borrowed hopes of lethal dreams
Christ is the answer to the brazen cage. He is coming again.
KarmaPolice Jun 2015
Apologies in advance. I wanted to share them all x
---------------------------------------------------------------­----------

For the fallen

The world is such a tormented place,
Haunted by the insecurities of every race.
Obsessed with greed and absolute power,
The dictators rained on the weak,
With a gun filled shower.

Brave men were enlisted to bring peace to the land,
To help the weak be strong and to make a stand,
Women and children were left abandoned, alone,
While their men were out fighting protecting our home.

Families shattered by one single blast,
Congregating together in one single mass.
Weeping beside a freshly dug grave,
Lay a widow wishing that he had not been so brave.

We will remember him always for his courage and valour,
By honouring his name in silence upon the eleventh hour.
Rest in peace my friend we are forever in your debt,
We will pray for you all.... lest we forget.

--------------------------------------------------------­-------------

Love in War

Thinking of you my love,
As this horror reigns upon me from above,
Scared, freezing cold and wet,
I think of you, the good times we had,
Which I will never forget,

One by one, my comrades fall, into this stranger of lands,
Where they once stood tall,
Too weak to keep going, no food, no water,
We think of our loved, wives, sons and daughters,

Shells falling, exploding beside,
Blood shed all over, my comrades have died,
I am alone now, with nowhere to turn,
As the carnage of war continues to burn,

I hear the enemy drawing near, shouting aloud,
The trophies off my comrades, have made them so proud,
I have to make a choice, as either way I will die,
As I cook this grenade and blow them sky high!
-----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------

Why my father cried

Sitting by the fire,
He raised a glass,
Whispering words,
Of his secret past,

A solitary tear,
Wiped slowly away,
Hiding the pain,
Of that fateful day,

As a curious child,
I always wondered why,
My heroic father,
Would sit and cry,

Or wake up screaming,
Soaked in his bed,
Telling my mother,
The noise in his head,

As I grew old,
I understood why,
My soldier father,
Would sit and cry,

He lost his family,
Not linked by blood,
He witnessed things,
That no human should,

Affected by the war,
Still to this day,
His post-traumatic stress,
Stuck on replay.

--------------------------------------------------------­-------

The Return

Newsflash on the radio, he saved many lives,
Protecting his brothers, by self-sacrifice,
Dreading the moment, of a knock at my door,
Just hearing those words, pin me to the floor,

My wife drops her cup, is crippled by the dread,
We know what is coming, our heroic Son is dead,
I'm crying deep inside, on the outside I am strong,
Footsteps drawing near, I know it won’t be long.

Flashbacks whirling round, family moments we shared,
Too proud to tell my son, just how much I cared,
I reach for my wife, to hold her in my arms
The doorbell rings, like the morning alarm,

Bringing her close, I tell her it's okay,
Holding each other’s hands, as we start to pray,
I walk to the door, heart beats through my chest,
Opening it slowly, as it comes to rest,

My son stands before me, tears replace tears,
No scratch upon his skin, allaying all my fears,
A reoccurring dream, every single night,
As we await his return, from their heroic fight.

Written for all the families affected by war.

----------------------

Flashback

My husband sits for days on end,
Staring through his empty friend,
My tearful words fall alone,
His mind resides in combat zone,

A man replaced by shell so cold,
Numbed by scars of war untold,
Violent dreams lived each night,
Lashing out, at all in sight,

He returns to war inside his head,
Trauma stained by all bloodshed,
A trigger pulled, his mind released,
Begging for, all thoughts to cease,

His scars remain, but can't be seen,
Buried deep inside his dreams,
Years of therapy, will help him free,
From the damaging effects..
.. of PTSD

I pray for the day, he's finally home,
So the trauma of war, can leave us alone.

----------------------

A Winter's Soldier

A winters night, into the cold,
The Queen's servant, looking old,
Just ten years since Iraq..
Ripped cloth upon his back.

Paper sheets, and plastic bags,
Warming body holding rags ,
His bottle lacking wine..
Drinking passed the time,

Daily grind, passing by,
No one stops, wonders why..
..His lips, are a shade of blue,

Tight fist clutched to chest,
A hero soldier, came to rest,
Upon commuter street..
..look down beneath your feet...

..Yes you!

A winters soldier, died alone,
Buried deep, below the stone,
Tortured by the war..
By the scars nobody saw.

If only you had not ignored,
The dying soldier there before,
Then maybe we could save...
..The wounded and the brave.

New poems added. Hopefully improve them in time :-)
Klvshp0et Jun 2015
You have fallen
so far from grace.
When you look
in the mirror
you can't even recognize
Your own face.

You have become a
living vessel.
A waste of space
locked in your own shuttle.
You are far from settled and
you have fallen
so far from grace.
So far from grace.
**** it.
You don't even want to
see your face.
Too much pain there.
Too much shame there.
You see what you
have become there.
Who are you?
What have you become?
I remember from the darkness
you use to run.
Now you're as still as lumber
And you feel it's linger
When it comes.
You have given into yourself.  
You have given into your demons
Keep giving the light
the ****** *******.
Because further from it
you will fall.

You have fallen.
You have fallen
so far from grace.
When you.
When you look
in the mirror.
You can't even recognize
Your own face.
Your very own face.
Sera Amour May 2015
Even the mightiest fall,
their hands positioned to draw,
the gun that will take their life,
going with only an internal fight.

Us fallen,
we do just that.
We don't always ask for a second chance.
Some of us make a choice to get back up,
others would die than be stuck in a rut.

They're hidden,
emotions bidden,
to go away,
to die in the fray,
of which is our existence.
Tattered and torn,
hearts are completely worn.
Forsworn.



Flower petals fall upon the ground,
colors swirling all around.
We begin to wonder if we'll ever be found.
Ground.
Into the dirt.
Nobody cares when we are hurt.
It doesn't matter that we care for you more than ourselves,
we're always burnt.
Ground.
Into the dirt.
Lecia Alane May 2015
Who would have thought that hell could be beautiful?
Screams of the fellow ****** bleed into the devilish hymns of the choir,
creating an eerily evocative polyphony
from the lips of those who strip the flesh from our backs and revel in our misery.
The angels of hell smile,
with all the splendor of their former positions and more;
For they are more than angel.
They are imperfect,
and yet so hideously perfect that the mind splinters into shards of stained glass that fall from the cathedral into the pits of hell.
They are Hatred.
They are Anguish.
They are Lust.
They are Greed.
They are Lies.
They are the purest form of every wicked misfortune known to mankind.

They are ethereal; They are macabre;

They are fallen.
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