Exterminate
...Foetus was growing
At the cost
Of uterus mother's organism...
My thoughts
Has gone in torture
I hear - why !?
I don't I feel touch.
I torture other vicim - why !?
Question why scoring
I say to you?
Degenerated conception of creepy
Created by aversion & death
Vision of their own nation
I remember moment
Saturated with
Looking at massacre - why ?
Innocent's blood is
All over my body
Deep in me there is
Degeneration & inside
Madness
Madness
Murder by the reason
Cruelty by own
Children's blood
Created by system of hatred
Changed into beast
...From unsewed stomach is
Coming baby
Small in mother's blood,
Stumps cut navels
Around their throats
Mother's blood mixed
With young stuff
Demonic orgy, woman's anatomy
I'm guilty in brain torture
I hear - why question
Nation's death - why
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Madded to murder
Loaded with passion.
The thrill of hate.
Maddened by nature.
Death is your fate.
Lifeless bodies,
drift far apart.
Perfection is you,
your type of art.
Painfull pleasure Mixed,
with twisted thoughts.
Black dust horror.
Only murder have you brought.
Steamed with madness.
Dying for dripping blood.
Rip out her heart,
this torture has just begun.
Loaded with bullets,
the thrill of murder.
Maddened by revenge.
just to kill her further.
The Feeling
Spotted with woman's blood
I feel her smell around
Eyes starring at abyss - disappointed
- Why death and rape connect me - with it...
Her arms - pointed with long sharpens
Her face - maltreated - crooked with deadly grimace
Where should we hide
Leave stuff...How I wanted it...
No, nobody can remember eyes... - massacred...
- Face has to disappeared
No, nobody can find it... earth...cold...
- Swallowing young beauty
I felt you - connected with this body in ecstasy
I wanted - your every move sight body
You burnt me - nothing couldn't stop me
I felt close to you
You're standing next to me
You're dancing with your hands and body
My desire is growing...kiss...love sewer...
My desire is growing...sharpens...kiss...blood...love sewer...
Usual unpower Too proud - I made bloody thoughts
Jealousy - Contempt for usual creature
Feeling - is growing
Thoughts - unfinished war - pain - murder
I'm tearing you madness screw
I'm connected you with death...
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Human weakness
Through the breath of death
and sickening blight.
I hear the strings of frailty
The comments of arrogance
The comments of cruelty
I hear the strings of hypocrisy
through the splash of blood
and squish of gore
I hear death all around me
the sun runneth away
the dark has come to stay
I hear infernal laughter all around me
Blood runs over me
runs from my neck
I feel despair inside of me
vision fading swiftly
thoughts rapidly decaying
I hear fallen laughter
as death gives way to slaughter
And the strings of mortality
poem by Matt Daffern
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The Haunting Dream
It was a dream
This dream was like none other
Felt so real
To this day those children scream in pain
I feel myself going insane
All those children screaming, dieing
Dropped to my knees nearly crying
All so young, they deserved to live
If only
If only I had more to give
I wanted to help, I tried, I really tried
The more I helped, even more had died
Torture
I've never seen torture devices like these before so dark, so brutal
The blood
All the young children drained of blood
I awaken
Ears are bleeding, eyes can't tell whats real and whats fake
This truelly was
The haunting dream.
poem by Kevin Fisher
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Independent No Longer
Chaos and Madness. Tools of Man Kind to wield against each other like the sword and bow. Blood shed, a favored event in the devastated minds of soldiers and killers. The innocent cold blood of men and women, children and elders, young and old, is cast upon the beloved mother Earth, and it is here where Rak'Shi, herb of demons, thrives in the tinted crimson stained lands of human battlegrounds. Only we can prevent the world, our very race, from engaging itself to insanity. Least we make the ultimate regret and perish in a massive failure for peace.
Independence ends. We must trust and believe in one another.
Or else, we all take the plunge into Hell, in our growing Holocaust of madness.
poem by Jesse Milligan
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Life For Life
Internally old organism
Rejected its fetus
But occuring reactions won't allow
To tear out the bringer
Of human existence
Fight for life - what life,
Which one question
In great fulfilmnet life was created
To sacrifice - life for life...
Off happiness for human
Satisfaction left is
Impotence and emptiness...
And scattered human
Creation is being removed...
Save life - but what life,
Which one question piece by piece,
Effectively and carefully
Small head which was
Supposed to see the world
(to give happiness and
mother's devotion)
Inertly lies in the surgeon's hands -
A few stumps, closed and blood covered
Eye - lids, deadly grimace
Of the childish face...
Someone must stay life -
-But what for, why?
Emptiness will persist,
Nervous breakdown and fear...
Looking at the deadly fetus in all -
-Embracing inability
weeping won't help
in blood - life is taken away to rescue
(Another) life
and then...to forget (?) - life for life
Unforgettable grief...
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What has happened
What has happened?
People were all brains
They were inclined to peace
About one step far
Then suddenly
People went mad
Fire everywhere
Blood will have blood*
Children like broken winged birds
Covered with blood
Blood will have blood*
This is madness
Blind madness
And nobody knows
What has happened!
* from Macbeth by Shakespeare
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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Massacre Of The Unborn
No survive
Unborn child
Cut to pieces
Left without a name
Unwanted because of the problems of humanity
Unspeakable crime
Silent war is the name of the game
Millions are dying in actions of death and pain
Misguided mothers make this happen
Sometimes for a financial situation
Or a sexual mistake
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
Innocent blood cries in vain
Defenseless lives are slaughtered everyday
They should make a law against this insanity
Unborn corpses are growing in extreme quantity
Premature stage
Slowly destroyed by the human race
[Lead]
Tortured by tyrants
Unjustly demise
Infant children are left to die
Just innocent lives they slay
There is no chance to escape
Murdering is the matter of this case
A merciless torture to take
No one will live, because they won't survive
There's infant dying
Can't you see
That they will not have a chance
Of growing up in this life
[Lead]
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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...Taken Due...
Inside torture
Appearing - between disposed legs
Covered with blood
Bloody gift from nature
Torpid brain won't give any tears
But other will listen to the mother's scream
Something died inside her
Before she wanted to
Andnow has been lying...spat
-Taken with bloody hands -
Anemic system made nothingness
Foggy image and sleepy visions
-My baby...my...give it back...- back...
Going away somewhere deformed image
Clumsy bright person coming revolves in rooms
Looking for a terrible image of memory
Bottomless sigh (showing no feelings)
Which earlier was burning with bright
-Remembered the baby
...And that king wants to recove...
Murdering new-born creature
Restored the vision of the bird
And now squatted in the corner
Spasmodically holding
Piece of taken due
song performed by by Yattering
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Written In Passion Blood
love is written in warm passion blood
life is written in lust stirring flow blood
union is written in rich soul merging blood
blood in all union gift birth children born
blood bled in surge birth new life
blood corrupted death end finale life
blood love warm pure pumps renewal
blood flesh pierced sword's blade
blood climatic performance act ends
blood in taste of virgin experience death
contradiction the birth of life the birth of death
music cosmic soars at moment of conception
a moment seals love passion or life rape ripped
life poem writ contains such complexity such depth
lucky are lines life focus love given in glad glee read
glad for startling insight thoughts reflections merry
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Torture
When they torture your mother
plant a tree
When they torture your father
plant a tree
When they torture your brother
and your sister
plant a tree
When they assassinate
your leaders
and lovers
plant a tree
Whey they torture you
too bad
to talk
plant a tree.
When they begin to torture
the trees
and cut down the forest
they have made
start another.
poem by Alice Walker
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The Slave Dealer
From ocean's wave a Wanderer came,
With visage tanned and dun:
His Mother, when he told his name,
Scarce knew her long-lost son;
So altered was his face and frame
By the ill course he had run.
There was hot fever in his blood,
And dark thoughts in his brain;
And oh! to turn his heart to good
That Mother strove in vain,
For fierce and fearful was his mood,
Racked by remorse and pain.
And if, at times, a gleam more mild
Would o'er his features stray,
When knelt the Widow near her Child,
And he tried with her to pray,
It lasted not for visions wild
Still scared good thoughts away.
"There's blood upon my hands!" he said,
"Which water cannot wash;
It was not shed where warriors bled
It dropped from the gory lash,
As I whirled it o'er and o'er my head,
And with each stroke left a gash.
"With every stroke I left a gash,
While Negro blood sprang high;
And now all ocean cannot wash
My soul from murder's dye;
Nor e'en thy prayer, dear Mother, quash
That Woman's wild death-cry!
"Her cry is ever in my ear,
And it will not let me pray;
Her look I see her voice I hear
As when in death she lay,
And said, 'With me thou must appear
On God's great Judgment-day!'"
"Now, Christ from frenzy keep my son!"
The woeful Widow cried;
"Such murder foul thou ne'er hast done
Some fiend thy soul belied!"
" Nay, Mother! the Avenging One
Was witness when she died!
"The writhing wretch with furious heel
I crushed no mortal nigh;
But that same hour her dread appeal
Was registered on high;
And now with God I have to deal,
And dare not meet His eye!"
poem by Thomas Pringle
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Morbid Art (A mother she calls herself)
black nails
a dark soul
half a heart
never again whole
cut wrist
blood hides
people see
with eyes that abide
A torn body
scars all around
A quiet mouth
with a screaming sound
She crys for help
first with her wounded skin
she shows her mother her hurt
in hope getting help her mother will give in
But so wrong was she
for her mother only said stop
no compassion in her words
so continued to the blood drops
yet the girl trys again
instead of scars she uses her word
pleading and begging
until she is heard
A mother the woman calls herself
yet she neglected her own
A selfish woman making life hell
while her children feel unwanted and alone
poem by Silent Speaker
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Written In Red!
Pages of history of man kind
Are written red,
Those who thought their blood,
As blue as sky or as blue as deep ocean,
Wrote the pages in Red and every page is full of bloodshed!
Hungry people weep for even glass of water,
And even for that they had blood to shed,
Innocent plants or innocent grass die,
When two elephants fight for supremacy!
They never care how many innocent may die!
Great heroes are made on the number of men they despatch to hell,
Saying patriots have heaven in their fight!
They are heroes like matadors at the cost of blood of an innocent bull!
Otherwise they are as you and me except that cruelty,
Men the made several men to shed blood, in the name of woman,
May it be sita, may it be Padmini
Or may be Helen of Troy,
All men were treated like toys
By a that a few mad boys,
To have their woman back,
Or defend their action,
All religions have their history written in red,
May it be books that are from God,
Stained with red, God signed it with blood,
Put the rubber stamp of quality with bone and flesh,
Every nation is having its own fountain of blood shed!
power hungry need only to shed crocodile tears,
Or just present awards and reward,
Those who safeguard
and died to save them!
May it be Ashoka, may it be Idi Ameen
or may be Churchil, or may be Gandhi,
Or may Lincoln or Changez Khan
Only they were famous due blood shed!
May it be history of continent or that sub continent
Only a story written in blood, On human skin and with bones as pens!
May it be any ' -ism ' or may
Politics in spain or Britain,
Equally dangerous are these..
Power or woman,
Ambition or nation,
Whether terrorist or counter terrorist venture
Police or politician,
Every history of massive wealth,
Or a piece of land
Religion or culture, blood is That red ink with pages of history is written only in red!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Abortion (1-6)
Abortion #1
Watch them
slaughter
the child
and
'dispose'
of it.
Abortion #2
A life snuffed out
before it can begin.
No chance to love,
to grow, to learn
to live;
no chance to do anything.
A life
just created
and destroyed.
Abortion #3
A quick flow of blood
a tiny corpse.
A baby murdered,
it's mother leaves the clinic
continuing to live her life
unlike her child.
Abortion #4
Tears
dropp from Heaven
as another child is murdered.
A soul without a name
unwanted by its own mother,
robbed of its right to live.
I pray for you.
Abortion #5
As you go to get your abortion
remember that at this moment
you are alive
and able to kill your child
because your mother
did not choose
to abort you.
Abortion #6
Abortion
is not murder
any more
than shooting a little baby
in the back of the head
is murder.
poem by Zachary Zuccaro
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The Gruesome
Blood and gore
And bodies galore
Death is reaping
Children are weeping
Chaos, murder
People falling from the sky
And no one seems to care why
Arms legs head feet
All showing their signs of defeat
Why must they die?
This is a question
To never be answered
Hanging corpses
Are telling their stories
Upon the lynching ropes
There is not
A place without rot
Or even a simple blood spot
So leave
Be gone
Away from here
Before you feel
Death rows fear
poem by Sean Miller
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Mr. Torture
Welcome to the torture chamber
said the sign above the entrance
laughinh as it taked you by the hand
Looking as i maniac savage
inside you can sense the anguish
theatre of pain has just begun
Mr.Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chains
he knows just what you crave
Mr. Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
Only sixty sents a minute
for his special brand of singing
phone guaranteed to blow your mind
You can catch him on a website
has a live chat every weeknight
cyber-torture soon coming your way
Mr Torture sells pain
to the houswives in Spain
he knows just what you crave
Mr Torture
If youre feeling alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr Torture sells pain
Handcaffed,bounded,chained and blinded
body, soul and mind ignated
every sense is torn and ripped apart
Hes been banned in twenty countries
though he does it for money
he gets pleasure by hearing you scream
Mr. Torture gives pain
with his whips and his chaines
he knows just what you crave Mr. Torture
If youre feelin alone
then just pick up your phone
dial 18 double 0 Mr. Torture
Mr. Torture sells pain
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The secret war that is raging in South Africa
The secret war that is raging in South Africa
asks for white blood,
these black people first kill and torture
before they take your possessions.
Incident upon incident I can tell about
where white families have been killed,
just think about the Orffer family
who was killed in Stellenbosch
on Friday 31 July 1994
by black people:
First the trustworthy black maid Sannetjie,
who tried to ward off the attackers with her bare hands
like a Amakeia of days gone,
then the blonde small girl
then the dad and the deaf little boy
and last the mother
were chopped with a axe to death
and everywhere there was blood.
Nowadays the tendency is
to first bind up the head of the family,
the man, to assault him
and to torture him to death in front of his family
and then to rape the women,
even toddlers and babies
and if the women are lucky
they survive
when the criminals
leave with their possessions
and it seems as if the police
do not want to, or are not able to stop this thing
and then it is claimed
that these people kill and steal
because they are hungry, while people in government
sings songs to wipe out whites.
From April 1994 when Nelson Mandela became president
the wiping out of white families is our destiny,
the Afrikaner nation is in the melting pot
we who have an own culture, language and identity,
who cannot become part of the hurly-burly
are killed, not only robbed
but tortured and horribly killed
and our women and children are raped.
Even Eugene Terreblancé
had befallen this same lot
and if this is not a war
that is raging against us,
where we are systematically
bit by bit, family by family
wiped out, and the numbers
are already in the thousands, then what is it?
[References: Klaaglied: Stellenbosch, Vrydag,31 Julie 1994 (Song of lamentation: Stellenbosch, Friday,31 Julie 1994) by Lina Spies. Amakeia by A. G. Visser, Amakeia, Amakeia then and now by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Good Die Young
bullet shattered through
skin like broken glass
blood rains from the sky as a nation cry
all because another died
eyes barely opened to the world
feet still dry but now cold
as the good die young
before it all said and done
a mother lost a son
as his body returns to the sand
as it hard time when the good die young
no among of rain can watch
away the blood stained pavements
as am down on my knees
praying for my own salvation
seen so much brother die
and my god you along know why
the good the young
and the bad stay around
poem by Robert Roberts
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Dawns Highway
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
Grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
The desert, at dawn, and a truck load of indian
Workers had either hit another car, or just - I dont
Know what happened - but there were indians scattered
All over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. that was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta been about four - like a child is
Like a flower, his head is just floating in the
Breeze, man.
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking
Back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of em...were just
Running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
Soul. and theyre still in there.
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, its following me.
Indian, indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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