"avenge" poems
Before killing him,
your last moments flashed.
Those despairing eyes,
that begging grasp you died with,
and it hit me.
At that moment,
I finally understood.
It never brooded
you don't want me
to avenge your unjustified death.
I didn't know
you'll realize before anyone
I'll slowly embrace a hideous monster
and torture those who tortured you.
Eventually,
I pulled the trigger and fired.
I can't go back.
I've came a very long way
and can't go back now.
I avenged your death
and avenged my pain
and lost myself forever.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
The thought of you laughing
is just simply ridiculous
'Cause you won't be laughing
in a sweet moment
The time my revenge
will come out fresh
Shall make me avenge
for the jokes you've played on me
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
Since I was born I couldn't feel
what others feel
I never had anything that was real
Actually it doesn't matter...
It was real enough to me
They told me it would be fine
but they locked me up, took what's mine
What they did turned my life into dirt
Actually it doesn't matter...
I don't feel and I can't be hurt
But one day I will myself on them avenge
****** revenge
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Promises are evil
Mouths open awaiting
To be filled with blood
Sometimes bones
Other times hope
They make you sell
Another man for nickels
They make you
Bury life to avenge the dead
I despise them so
For they demand too much
Often bruising, often enslaving.
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 4:40 PM UTC
Up and lead the dance of Fate!
Lift the song that mortals hate!
Tell what rights are ours on earth,
Over all of human birth.
Swift of foot to avenge are we!
He whose hands are clean and pure,
Naught our wrath to dread hath he;
Calm his cloudless days endure.
But the man that seeks to hide
Like him (1), his gore-bedewèd hands,
Witnesses to them that died,
The blood avengers at his side,
The Furies' troop forever stands.
O'er our victim come begin!
Come, the incantation sing,
Frantic all and maddening,
To the heart a brand of fire,
The Furies' hymn,
That which claims the senses dim,
Tuneless to the gentle lyre,
Withering the soul within.
The pride of all of human birth,
All glorious in the eye of day,
Dishonored slowly melts away,
Trod down and trampled to the earth,
Whene'er our dark-stoled troop advances,
Whene'er our feet lead on the dismal dances.
For light our footsteps are,
And perfect is our might,
Awful remembrances of guilt and crime,
Implacable to mortal prayer,
Far from the gods, unhonored, and heaven's light,
We hold our voiceless dwellings dread,
All unapproached by living or by dead.
What mortal feels not awe,
Nor trembles at our name,
Hearing our fate-appointed power sublime,
Fixed by the eternal law.
For old our office, and our fame,
Might never yet of its due honors fail,
Though 'neath the earth our realm in unsunned regions pale.
7.6k
We are a team, That have a dream…
We don’t stop, no not even when we drop.
other teams are lame , cause we got game.
Sprint, pass, shoot, dribble, assist, defense
Thats our life as we thrive. This is our house
And the game is our spouse.
We grieve every loss, cause we hate losing
more than we love winning. But the next game
We go up down, down up back at it with the roundup
We get hungry to get revenge, on the team that
Can’t avenge but we don’t rest til we’re the best.
We’ll be on top one day and they’ll pop.
We steal like thief’s in the night,
We wont lose without a fight,
We have the pace, and we keep up with the race.
There are setbacks, slumps, bumps,
But that only makes us stronger
And it makes us last longer.
We fall as one , rise as one,
That’s what makes us family
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
A dark past,
also my last.
memory,
of my family.
my beloved brother,
killed my father and mother.
my clan too,
and someone knew.
He only spared me,
and then he flea'd,
Leaving me,
without my family.
the love i had for him turned to hate,
I awoke my sharingan by the time i was 8.
my goal and objective was to **** him with my own hand,
then i could avenge my family and my clan.
we were close and we played,
By my side he always stayed.
I looked up to and wanted to be like him,
but my chances back then were looking quiet slim.
a prodigy indeed,
left my heart to bleed.
filled me with hate,
I just had to wait.
Lonely I use to be,
my beloved brother took my family from me.
I wondered why he murdered our clan,
I wondered if this was always his plan.
the brother i remember was always kind,
Or was i just simply blind.
one day when Im stronger,
when i can fight for even longer.
Ill be ready to **** he,
the one who killed our family.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
1509
Mine Enemy is growing old—
I have at last Revenge—
The Palate of the Hate departs—
If any would avenge
Let him be quick—the Viand flits—
It is a faded Meat—
Anger as soon as fed is dead—
’Tis starving makes it fat—
4.4k
It must feel good
To strike at royalty
To ****** a blade with gold
To avenge the unjust hangings and deaths
To send the 'rulers of the world' to oblivion
To make them cry instead of hundreds of people
It must feel good
To slay royalty
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 11:24 AM UTC
speculation pulls down on the body
the quick switch into panic, akin to the comedic drop of an anvil
when you realise that things aren't as simple as they seemed
it's amazing that you could even be shocked
but when has anything ever been simple?
what else is life to you but a riddle?
the questions which rush through your brain
sweeping you off your feet and onto the gravel
curiosity lunges at you, hungry and ready to feed
to claim another life, to rip each "what if?" out from your curled fists
you should have already known the murders it is capable of
but you would never take the proverb literally, would you
"things are the way they are, because they are"
do not lie back in the mud and be defeated
pull the mystery apart, unravel the string with your mighty claws
seize the day and avenge the cat
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
As kids
We were taught to cheer for the hero
The picture perfect role model
The one we all strived to be
The one that always found a way to win
No matter what the odds
He always made the decisions
He Should make
And the only mistakes he made
Were ones that could be corrected
So he could keep his perfect image
We cheered for the hero because
When he was faced with tragedy
He didn't drown in sorrow
But instead used it as a springboard
To become something greater
He always saved the day
And everyone who needed
And he never failed to rescue someone
Not even once
So we held him up high
Because that's what we wanted to be
But overtime
We learned that the hero is just a fantasy
He only lives in comics
Because that's where he was meant to be
So we learned to side with the villain
Not because we're evil
But because the villain is more real
More human
When the villain was faced with tragedy
He did what was human
He attempted to swim
In the flood of sorrow
But couldn't swim forever
He drowned
The villain is relatable
He makes the decision
We Would make
He did what he thought was right
Or at least what was necessary
To provide the needs of
Or to avenge
His family
But eventually
He became blinded
To what he did
And he couldn't see
That he was wrong
Because the villain isn't perfect
He's just like us
The villain is human
So we side with the villain
Becuase we feel his pain
We relate with his emotions
We understand his actions
Perfection is something we can't be
So we stopped cheering for the hero
When we realized that's who we can never be
And started to side with the villain
Because he's just like you and me
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
☺☻╬☻
Finish the crackers --- grab a smoke . . .
of Ferguson my muse will sing.
A call to arms --- God’s fires to stoke;
let Truth and Freedom ring!
Take to the streets; avenge this wrong
and hasten the end of racist rule.
Justice, though it may tarry long
will find its target in the duel.
Young Michael Brown, like all true saints
found himself craving Swisher Sweets.
He robbed a store, whose camera paints
impartial portrait. In the streets
the thief refused to be detained
and so threw off police restraint.
Though sin escaped, the Law remained
and made a martyr of this saint.
The agitators did their thing:
inflaming thugs to smash and loot,
while racists baited hooks, to string
the press. Officials followed suit.
Angels, although not always kind,
do not display this attitude –
aware of how the police mind
responds to such ingratitude.
We ought to thank the police force
for showing mercy under stress.
The culprit chose a foolish course
and made a God-awful mess.
Prince Michael met ignoble fate
(that ghetto-Christ, that righteous youth)
His sacrifice in vain --- though great,
could not impede the march of Truth.
Ferguson, our eyes turn towards you . . .
are you now able to admit
while reality rewards you
that looting and lying ain’t ****
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
Can we call it freedom if it divides?
Is it correct to ridicule revered name?
Was that in defence of freedom?
Or was that for easy money and fame?
They went on with their provocations;
And justified it with arguments lame.
Numerous hearts were agonised.
But few turned wild, difficult to tame.
Extreme provocations and insults.
In the name of ' Freedom of speech'
Extreme response and harshest reply.
To avenge the insult and to teach.
When one's ' Freedom of Expression ';
Gives one the ' Freedom to insult '.
Hatred and dissension are promoted;
And can lead to horrifying result.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Yea, and in future age shall Aegeus's host
Revere this court of jurors. This the hill
Of Ares, seat of Amazons, their tent,
What time 'gainst Theseus, breathing hate, they came,
Waging fierce battle, and their towers upreared,
A counter-fortress to Acropolis;--
To Ares they did sacrifice, and hence
This rock is titled Areopagus.
Here then shall sacred Awe, to Fear allied,
By day and night my lieges hold from wrong,
Save if themselves do innovate my laws,
If thou with mud, or influx base, bedim
The sparkling water, nought thou'lt find to drink.
Nor Anarchy, nor Tyrant's lawless rule
Commend I to my people's reverence;--
Nor let them banish from their city Fear;
For who 'mong men, uncurbed by fear, is just?
Thus holding Awe in seemly reverence,
A bulwark for your State shall ye possess,
A safeguard to protect your city walls,
Such as no mortals otherwhere can boast,
Neither in Scythia, nor in Pelops's realm.
Behold! This Court august, untouched by bribes,
Sharp to avenge, wakeful for those who sleep,
Establish I, a bulwark to this land.
This charge, extending to all future time,
I give my lieges. Meet it as ye rise,
Assume the pebbles, and decide the cause,
Your oath revering. All hath now been said.
3.6k
Dear Dad,
I love you - oh so much!
I understand
that you were the one
who stood beside me
ever since I was little
ever since Mom lost it
and fled off, eventually.
But I still thank Him
for every single day
He gave you to me.
And Dad,
I know you're scared -
Daddies get scared too -
And I understand
that ever since Mom -
you have lost too much
But you won't ever lose me, you see?
I won't ever leave you!
The wind won't ever carry me away
to places you can't go
Well-
unless it takes me to the ladies' room
then you'd have to let me go.
But after that,
I'll find you outside and
hold your hand.
Dear Dad,
There's no need for P-38, no.
That P-38
You swore you'd use
that on every boy
who breaks my heart
But Dad, cant you see?
It's okay!
I want to get my heart broken.
I want to know how pain
is associated
after the expiration of love
I want to know how you felt before
Because I want to be wary,
I want to take caution
on the next dates I'd have.
And I have to get hurt
to build my own muscles
to become as strong as you.
So that the next man who
breaks my heart
I wont cry so hard all night
that I'd feel the guilt
because I kept you awake.
You'd then call me a princess
and pledge to avenge me
because princesses, you say,
shouldn't be in distress.
But Dad, I am not a damsel
of course not!
I am a warrior!
A ******* goddess at war.
You have to ingest
the fact that your baby girl
has grown into a soldier
in a war she trained herself into
because it is her war.
Keep your P-38, Dad.
There's no need for that.
She's in a battle -
let her win it
without you.
But dearest Dad,
at the end of the day,
I will fall inside the
castle of your arms
and tell you my
whimsical adventures
and assure you
that I'm still your baby girl.
That way,
you won't feel old and
you won't feel like disappearing.
Because you are my King
and kings don't leave
their daughters alone in the woods.
***
Dear Dad,
Somebody broke my heart today.
Where are you?
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC
my heart only knows rage
growing, crawling like wildfire
to which my bones will collapse like lilac twigs;
then again, honey,
we do not burn down with the fire — we become it,
should we fall like witches condemned.
then again, honey,
they do not burn; the fire knows its mistress' touch
and today, we have inherited
all the anger, all the wrath, all the names of the men
she held onto for centuries in her palms.
today, she will avenge
all her sisters lynched and effaced
all her brothers starved and gunned
by the very pigs who swore to protect
and the fire will
creep, engulf, and spread,
torching their money and their abusive hands —
their lying tongues and iron fists
burning in cauldrons
they will burn us in,
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until all that's left are ashes
from where no cruel man will rise.
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until justice,
like a goddess,
emerges from a foam of embers.
and the smoke will slowly lift —
so will this anger.
so will this wrath.
and it's the sun itself that awakes
to the promise of a new day.
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 2:31 AM UTC
Memories
Memories To Love
Memories To Hate
Memories To Cherish
Memories To Forget
Memories To Avenge
Memories To Forgive
Memories To Share
Memories To Hide
With So Many Memories
With So Many Thoughts
With So Many Ideas
But Still
Why Are You Missing In My Life?
Why Am I Lost In This World?
Why Do I Feel So Hollow And Empty?
I Don't Want To Be Left Alone With Memories Forever!
All I Want Is You To Be With Me! ! !
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
Shoot me, You might as well, cause I'm a threat
A threat to your system, a threat to your net
profit and status quo, so pick up that gun shoot me and pray to the ground I go, and when you bury me you better call me a madman and pray that the martyrs don't grow
You may as well shoot me Mr.Police officer,
It may put your employers at ease
One bless black man with a heart of power
One less antibiotic to your disease
Don't forget to tell me I'm resisting, don't forget to tase me til I fall
Don't forget to choke me so those listening won't hear my struggles, my calls
Don't forget to have the media depict me as a **** and a criminal and a menace to society
Don't forget to reprimand and berate me
Remind your older white listeners that my kind, my skin color
is still not considered American Propriety
But more like American property, disposable goods
So **** me, the cameras are recording but don't worry you'll get off free
Might be just a conviction but your Massa's new henchmen and ***** still got the key
A couple months paid administrative leave so you can sit on a beach, drink some ice tea
Mad that you can no longer put chains on our wrists so you put handcuffs instead
No longer pulling whips across our backs so you bury hot burning lead
No longer working your fields for all to see but instead privatized free prison labor with your warden holding the key.
Martin told me when he us that he had a dream
I got his same DNA in my bloodstream
And in every cell in my body I feel the effect, I teem
I boil I scream, when I see a black mother or father gunned down by police men and the children witnessing the death, the blood, the stream.....
I scheme, and when I sleep, I dream
And when I dream it's bad news for you
to avenge those we lost by crimes, undue
To put a stop to all of you.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 9:13 PM UTC
SOME ******* TOOK ALL THE OREOS,
LICKED OUT ALL THE ICING
AND LEFT ONLY THE SOGGY CHOCOLATE COOKIES BEHIND
I WILL AVENGE THEIR DEATHS SOMEDAY
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:00 PM UTC
If charged particles are not guilty of existence, why would anyone be? Man who holds book or man who holds gun, the choice is neither obvious or attenuated. Reactionary causes rash tactlessness. Still, proof must be exposed. Who will avenge a payback unpunished? How to take satisfaction in evening the score, when so many more will fall before any justice will cure the lure to revenge? It depends, on how charged particles defend, or how you decipher foe from friend. Call upon prudence, or we shall see no end. Precaution is canniness in your own circumspection. Please use forethought for neither the neutron or proton are happy with these electrons.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
He looks at the moon everytime its out
doesnt matter if its full or if its about to become a new moon.
The Shadow Wolf howls at the moon night sky...
hoping that his heart will be healed like the way it was before...
His soulmate, Shade, the rare wolf who was exatly like him but in a female form
was killed by the heartless humans...
Human by Human he takes them all out...
And even though it wont bring back his soulmate
he doesnt it anyways to avenge his love
But also day by day the wolf slowly dies inside...
Day by day he can feel his heart break more and more into little pieces
and soon enough he will perish and his spirit united with the moon...
And with...his love...that has been patiently waiting for him...
All this time...
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the Judgement-day
And sat upright. While drearisome
Arose the howl of wakened hounds:
The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,
The worm drew back into the mounds,
The glebe cow drooled. Till God cried, “No;
It’s gunnery practice out at sea
Just as before you went below;
The world is as it used to be:
“All nations striving strong to make
Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters
They do no more for Christés sake
Than you who are helpless in such matters.
“That this is not the judgment-hour
For some of them’s a blessed thing,
For if it were they’d have to scour
Hell’s floor for so much threatening. . . .
“Ha, ha. It will be warmer when
I blow the trumpet (if indeed
I ever do; for you are men,
And rest eternal sorely need).”
So down we lay again. “I wonder,
Will the world ever saner be,”
Said one, “than when He sent us under
In our indifferent century!”
And many a skeleton shook his head.
“Instead of preaching forty year,”
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
“I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.”
Again the guns disturbed the hour,
Roaring their readiness to avenge,
As far inland as Stourton Tower,
And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.
2.5k
It’s brave to acknowledge the faults
Standing naked, without the armor
Behind which the fears hid
Unsheathed swords ready to strike
Everyone around wants to avenge
Cloaked with the veil of vulnerability
Cornered and taken to trial
None, but you have faltered ever
From the trials and tribulations
Emerges a strong soul
Which had the gumption to acknowledge
The faults that one may succumb to
Yet, the bravest cannot concede
It takes a valiant heart
To be not scared to acknowledge
And emerge a winner
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
i care, i really do...
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...
no, i do...
i'm trying...
ha ha...
i'm just imagining what
that one word
looks like in Hebrew...
the...
ha-shem...
i.e.
the-name....
laughing, but at the same time
saying the definite article
over, and over, and over again...
the the the the... v'eh v'eh v'eh...
"point"?!
what point?!
calling a cactus a *******
cactus?
or calling it
an semiticl headscarf?
which is which?
a skirt just covering
the knee?!
better ask your women
to wear gloves...
i seem to enjoy the fact
that the most ****** part of
a woman, are her hands...
geisha hands...
and wrists i could look
at like i might an enjoy an hour
with a bottle of wine...
aha!
tell me...
what's the difference between
a didgeridoo...
and a modern, nordic shamanic chant
akin to to the berserker warcry
in one of
heilung's song,
notably
alfadhirhaiti
where the audience go mad
with fervor & fury...
because didn't you know,
they say:
don't take to d.n.a. ancestor testing,
watch what you absorb culturally...
from what i heard...
the ugly vikings founded
the city of Kiev,
so they must have passed past my parts...
hidden Baltic -
grazing mother of soured milk
that intermediates
a stasis prior to yogurt -
no wolves in england...
i'll pet a a fox therefore...
scoop and swoon -
the baronical patience of
a shadow admirer.;
even if the Jews have abandoned
Europe...
what the left?
is beside the origin of what
the crucifix constitutes...
even if the Jews abandoned
Europe, what they pressed was
the antagonism of Greece -
they pursued ancient Greece -
until the world, and all matters Latin -
stood to understand -
the Jews left Europe,
abandoning the pursuit of Greek -
penitent people, noble people...
until the library of Nag Hammadi
emerged from
the sands of both time,
and Egypt...
noble people... penitent people...
these Israelites -
these Jobs of disgruntled time -
Hiob, Yob, Hiob, Job...
i am barren in wanting to "forgive"
the Jews...
how they pursued ancient Greek
to avenge the emergence of
the Second Troy in Rome...
with Rome...
no Greek will stand on these words
with an Achilles heel...
the Jews pursued the Greek
revisionism of their testament
long enough...
as what Nero found hilarious...
i take to wind and soul with
a drunk mind,
but a sober heart.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
Enter: Insecure like your neighbor's router.
The girl next door vs. an identity crisis
Caught in the torment of her name
Konfusion
The Konstantine of your dreams
In a nightmare of reality
The relationship
She fell out of
To follow a polluted path
To become
A misled materialized martyr
After
He says to her,
Something misogynistic
about her role
Or what he thinks he can control
To put her in her place
She's just a pawn on his chessboard
Never a Queen he should be fighting for
Using her body as a human shield
to avenge his own shadows
Exploited.
This is their daily
He's the blade
And she's the self-harm
Tracing the anti-battlescars
Writing love on her arms
Just when the knife couldn't cut any deeper
Somewhere between
Too far
And fillet o' soul
She had enough
but didn't break
Just felt her ego pull
Broken/Free
She packed her eternal baggage
And hit the runway
Running on the emptiness inside.
Fueled by frustrations
To keep the fire burning
Before she doused herself in the elixir
A hungry ghost
purging patience
In spite of everything
Soon to be made up
And lined up for the onslaught
Led to slaughter what dignity she has left
She says, "Oh, but I'll show him now. I'm not his precious little prize"
...
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC