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raðljóst Jun 2015
my mouth is dry
and each tear you cry is a drop of water
to quench my thirst

i've never wished this on anyone before
never grinned at the sight of blood
never been pleased to see someone break

but i've been broken myself
and while my bones are whole and sturdy
you smashed my heart to pieces
that no one coud ever mend
Ignatius Hosiana Jun 2015
I guess that's the final straw
The one last time I see your brow
I guess that is the end for us
The end to this blessing of a curse
I should have seen it from start
One of us would end up getting hurt
I should have seen with my mind
Knowing love is heart,heart is blind
That's what one reaps when one saws
In a wrong field,hard blow to the jaws
Should have just told me you had him
Instead of letting me keep the dream
Should have said It's down the stream
Better than pain,massage and cream
Should have told me to man up & gym
Or walk away 'stead of causing steam
Explain,how you could face me & lie
Rather than watching you cry
You know I cannot stand your tears
I avoided them through the years
It's too late to cry, what's the point of it
He succeeded but you caused the heat
I hope he's better than me in every bit
I'll bury the hatchet, I concede defeat

I concede defeat, I concede defeat
I concede defeat because you
never thought me fit

I concede defeat, go on with your pete
I concede defeat,
**** I concede defeat

You've had my hopes punctured
You've had my jaws fractured
Had my bloating pride raptured
Broken my heart, cupid archered
Don't explain I'm so angered
It's me you had endangered
Dude is a gang member
With bullets in the chamber
Imagine he'd taken that shot
If I had retreated not
You took a chance with what we had
Didn't know forgiving could be hard
Guess all of it is charred
Whatever it was we shared
Cause if you had really cared
Couldn't have had me beat for dead  

So I concede defeat, I concede defeat
I concede defeat
And I hope you find him fit
I concede defeat, I concede defeat
I concede defeat so I guess this is it
Crazy moments when I listen to a good beat and I try to rhyme
Egressx Jun 2015
My father
Was a violent person
Hot tempered, serious, tense.
Always, always tense.

I tried to deny it
But deep inside
I feared him.

Whenever I sensed a sudden change in his eyes,
A sudden flicker of anger on his face,
And even a sudden thickness in the air,
The fear kept creeping back

It was not the alcohol
That turned him into a monster.
Just how, in the right mind of a person,
Punch his wife,
Tear her hairs out of her scalp
And leave her body with bruises?

Just how, in the right mind of a person
Abuse his wife in front of his daughter,
Nonetheless of her daughter’s presence?

He’d hurt me too sometimes
When I tried to intervene,
To save my weak mother away from his grip.

He never apologized.
Not even once.
PrttyBrd Jun 2015
Soothing sounds of future memories
Pictures painted in the glory of pain
The beauty found in such ethereal places
Is especially so in the desperation
Emerging from watching the truth
Of the other side of elation
Never absorbing the joy in the mundane
Finding it exceptional
Only when threatened by the violence of truth
Truth is a reminder of fragility in all things
Manifesting itself in the clear consciousness
Of the possibility of pure anguish
The very thought of the mundane being temporary
Of that  routine being ripped apart
Shredded in terrifying facts of probability
Need vs want is a privilege
The truth is evil
The only freedom that can ever exist is truth
Faced with the amputation of what was once meaningless
Transforms the mundane to profound
There will always be loss
There will always be an opportunity to be reborn
Perception is reality
Mood is a choice
Absolute truth is a fallen angel
Yet it remains something for which to strive
Life in retrospect is not living
Biding time between bouts of honesty
Treading stagnant water
Fulfillment does not dwell in the in-between
Satisfaction is not born of boredom
The world that surrounds each life
Is only what that life has built in its down time
For there can be both joy and pain in all things
Both apathy and interest in each new view
Emotions are a powerful thing, as is logic
Yet if they never marry, there can only be lived a half-life
Peace is born in the unity of all that we are
6715
Graff1980 Jun 2015
The bitter bruises
That mark my bare flesh

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The harsh words of enemies,
Family, and friends

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The cruel human suffering
And daily acts of violence

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The **** I see on my computer screens
The darkness of our society

Bring me closer to enlightenment

You know what
I don’t need to be that enlightened
Graff1980 Jun 2015
I don’t like it but I can’t look away
The gore dripping red wet paint
The oily canvass viscera stained
Sick shades of swirling crimson
The artist bleeds what is burning
Blackish blue marks from bruising
Lines etched deeply under her eyes
Thin skin so pale that her veins bleed through
This is her truth the only art that she knew
Swollen spots sporadically cover her flesh
Some were her doing others were
The dark artistry of someone far more disturbed
With every fist with every brutal brushstroke
With every vitriolic word his voice spews
Acrid acid rain and plumes of toxic fumes
With ever horrible day the art turns grey
Pierces her membranes till the last vestiges of
Her once animated identity
Evaporate into a state of insanity
And clumps of paint still cling to the brushes
And the canvass still blushes
But the body is just a broken specter
All art with no spark just bleak black dreams
mania means blackouts.
the violent situation
mania.
all the symptoms were there.
short fuse.
irritability.
full blown,
mania.
all of the time.
mania.
i couldn't sleep.
oh my stars May 2015
I see a horse, elegant and proud,
I remember riding one into the cloud,
Her head held high, braver than me,
She was shot, that horse, despite her plea.

A firework explodes in the sky,
I remember him, his hopeless cry,
The night the shell came over my head,
And the next morning we found him dead.

A choir sings, it's Christmastime,
I remember the peace that cold daytime,
Boxing day we start killing again,
But that Christmas we were friendly gunmen.

I sit in a café eating beans,
I remember it, those dreadful scenes,
We were so hungry at mealtime,
But stealing rations was a crime.

My son runs around with a toy gun,
I remember how he did nit run,
Only looked pleadingly into my eyes,
I had no mercy- he soon dies.

I am not proud to be alive,
I am not happy to have survived,
I will remember you with all my heart,
In my head we will never part.

Wherever I go, whatever I do,
The war is with me.
It comes too.
Y May 2015
We're like wolves
Gnarling at each other
Shooting poison arrows
Hating everything we are together

Our hate is love
ranDom mysTeries out in June. Becoming theweirdblack first single out on 1st June.
Glottonous May 2015
The forms of lions reported were false.
It was a body of men with no heads.
They were no one, but everyone was it.
A cannibalistic **** of Self.
Gaping yaws with no faces to give word,
Unable to hear their own glottal calls,
Guttered incoherence for none to see.
Their fire and power were unlike those stored
In our hundred buried years of Mundis.
Unbound viscera – black, boiled, and souring:
Replaceable parts via war and tea;

Served with flesh overdeveloped to taste;
Served to slouching tongues and beastly fingers
By those for whom labor is cause and curse.
Adrenaline and other chemicals
Oiling their blood, charging minds, taxing nerves,
Traumatically driving their will to serve
Their bottom-toothed anathematic maws.
Those best who remained born of conviction
Died with the worst unexceptionally.
We now ask not what is coming for us,
But how long we will allow it to feed.
A re-working of Yeats' 'The Second Coming'.
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