Knight Brotherhood
The metalic clash of bronze,
the sweeping sound of steel.
The first draw of swords,
in their weilder's hands feel.
Through the drawn out years,
a bloody war do we wage.
Only to be recorded,
in a single blood-stained page.
We can never stop,
for no solution can we find.
We are stuck forever,
in this eternal bind.
Once best of friends we were,
now backs turned away.
May this quest for blood finally end,
that much we both pray.
Related quotes
Blood Stained
Atrocities
Made every day
Religiously
Their sins
They hide
Can never disguise
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
They wage their wars
Such profiteers
Will nail us all
Their crimes
Concealed
Despicably reveal
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained lies
They fire at will
Intent to kill
They have no conscience
They have no conscience
Ethnic cleansing nothing more!
Blood of nations blood of war
Turn blind eyes
From all your crimes
You bare our souls
Show no remorse
You cannot wash
The bloodstains off
They turn their backs
While others
Commit grisly acts
Were scared
For life
By politicians greedy
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained crimes
Blood stained lands
Blood stained minds
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
And while such predators
Stalk this earth
Disguised as saints
They kill our faith
Obsessed by greed
Lying through their teeth
They cannot wash
The blood stains off
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood stained top
My blood stained top lies on the floor.
Coved in crimson red.
From the bursting seems of my skin.
The blood did pour.
Going all over my top.
As the blood seeps in to my top.
It has made it blood stained.
Like blood tears.
My life remains in tatters.
Like my top I cut to bits.
My skin is sliced to ribbons.
And the blood is oozing,
down my top
Making it blood stained
See the top in the morning.
A memento of the night before.
It won't stop me.
For I'll have to do it again
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red With Native Blood
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
We have soiled it so, with our hands,
red with native blood.
The earth was stained, when we first came,
red with native blood.
We stole their domain, with a barbaric claim:
that we were civilised and they were not,
that they were the savages and we were not,
when we ravaged the land that began to clot,
red with native blood.
Not content with genocide
we interned them in reserves.
To break their culture
and tribal ways;
in stealing children
the state was brave,
to turn their women
into household slaves,
and hope their men would die,
unmourned, in lonely graves;
a problem to us no more.
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
Acknowledge their just demands,
wash the stains from our hands,
give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Power Of Thy Sword
Lord of battle I pray on bended knee conquest by the rising sun
I'll wait for thy command with flame and blood at hand
glory and a broken sword.
I'm the master of the world I have no fear of man or beast
Born inside the soul of the world
Riding hard breaking bone with steel and stone
Eternal might I was born to wield.
Let us drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
The clash of honor calls
I will stand when others fall
Open magic doors
The will know the power of my sword
There is blood in my hands there is blood in my eyes
With blood in my voice I scream as you die
Thirsting for vengeance and mounds of the slain
Shaking the forest onto the plain
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
They will know the power of my sword
song performed by by Manowar from The Triumph Of Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All she wants to do is be free mirror
Imprints of bloody hands stain the glass as I look at the mirror
My wounds are deep inside for everyone to see
If they even cared
A girl who cries for no reason
Who knows her anger is rising inside of her
Her soul is tainted
All she wants to do is be free mirror
This is what I see inside the other side of the mirror
As I stand there looking
The blood stains on her run from her heart to waist in the reflection
Tasting the stained blood which turned to the stained un-pure blood
Of the torment, pain, and lies
Her mouth opens up to say something
But bubbles escape only
Trapped inside the mirror as I peer inside
This is what I see on the other side of the mirror
poem by Alyssa Howell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Tears
The blood screams
for you to stop,
it trickles down,
then it drops.
The blood stained tears
don't make a sound
even as they hit the ground.....
The blood stained tears
they fall and fall,
until I am
nothing at all
poem by Faith Franklin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bloody Stain
I looked and saw a bloody stain as if it came from me
It was thick and red and seemed to ooze out from my own belly
Then another spot upon one leg and another on my chest
I was climbing up a stairway and just couldn’t find my breath
The red! The red was all around and had me slipping on the stairs
And now it felt like raining and was running down my hair
I then looked up and then I saw the strangest sight I’d seen
Blood droplets on the ceiling falling in a steady stream
I knew it could not be my blood but it was raining down so fast
Not gentle like the rain itself but sticky and – aghast -
I saw a sluice of redness come sweeping down on me
And then I turned a corner and that blood was blinding me
I was swimming in some entrails that I could not even name
It was like being in a butcher’s or in some suicidal game
I then stood straight and shouted – I shouted right out loud
‘I will not retreat just for fear for I am strong and proud’
I no longer climbed all frightened – an answer I did crave
And at that the top of those red steps I did find my mother’s grave
Beelzebub looked in the mirror and then he turned a page
He was now fearful for himself and of my incessant rage
I slayed him on those foot steps so he couldn’t rise at all
And with his death all of that blood did vanish from the floor.
poem by David Keig
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There is blood between us
I
There’s blood between us
that flows very strong
and that red
bind us to each other
with genes and ancestors
and you will forever be my brother.
II
There’s blood between us
and our hands
are full of it
and it’s blood of enemies
that had to flow
for us to stay alive
and that blood ties
you and me
in a own companionship
and you are my best comrade.
III
There’s blood between us
that binds you to me
and maybe a child
will appear out of us both
as sign of how sincere
our love is
and that blood
ties you my love
to me
as the one that I adore.
IV
There’s blood between us
that flows on a cross
where the Son of God
suffered for me
and that blood
wash all my sins away
and tie me
to become a child
of the Almighty Father.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even When Alone
the blackened plow,
the blood stained glove.
the hammered blade,
some call it love.
the bottomless well,
cant drink enough....
the blackened plow,
the blood stained glove.
the eyes of hunger,
empty face of loss.
the wheel of man
turns despite the cost.
when you're lost at sea,
and your ship is tossed.
the eyes of hunger,
empty face of loss.
and still the takers take
till the blood is drawn.
while the innocent pray
in the dark before dawn.
the weak sacrificed
to feed the strong...
the takers take
till the blood is drawn.
love plots no revenge,
stands even when alone
with the heart of right
forgives the wrong.
knows there has to be more
than just flesh and bones...
love plots no revenge,
stands even when alone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sestina: Altaforte
Loquitur: En Bertrans de Born.
Dante Alighieri put this man in hell for that he was a
stirrer-up of strife.
Eccovi!
Judge ye!
Have I dug him up again?
The scene in at his castle, Altaforte. "Papiols" is his jongleur.
"The Leopard," the device of Richard (Cúur de Lion).
I
Damn it all! all this our South stinks peace.
You whoreson dog, Papiols, come! Let's to music!
I have no life save when the swords clash.
But ah! when I see the standards gold, vair, purple, opposing
And the broad fields beneath them turn crimson,
Then howl I my heart nigh mad with rejoicing.
II
In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the tempests kill the earth's foul peace,
And the lightnings from black heav'n flash crimson,
And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, opposing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.
III
Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
And the shrill neighs of destriers in battle rejoicing,
Spiked breast to spiked breast opposing!
Better one hour's stour than a year's peace
With fat boards, bawds, wine and frail music!
Bah! there's no wine like the blood's crimson!
IV
And I love to see the sun rise blood-crimson.
And I watch his spears through the dark clash
And it fills all my heart with rejoicing
And pries wide my mouth with fast music
When I see him so scorn and defy peace,
His lone might 'gainst all darkness opposing.
V
The man who fears war and squats opposing
My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson
But is fit only to rot in womanish peace
Far from where worth's won and the swords clash
For the death of such sluts I go rejoicing;
Yea, I fill all the air with my music.
VI
Papiols, Papiols, to the music!
There's no sound like to swords swords opposing,
No cry like the battle's rejoicing
When our elbows and swords drip the crimson
And our charges 'gainst "The Leopard's" rush clash.
May God damn for ever all who cry "Peace!"
VII
And let the music of the swords make them crimson!
Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
Hell blot black for always the thought "Peace!"
poem by Ezra Pound
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Bloody Red Tears
Tears of blood
Oh, bloody red tears
They fall on my pillow
And it soaks in blood, red and liquefied
They fall to the floor bellow
And once dried...
It's covered in blood, brown and hardened
Oh, bloody red tears
They're the result of what no-one can mend
All my hurt that built up over the years
Bloody red tears
They're so beautiful to me
They quench my thirst nobody knows of or hears
Only one thirst could that be
The thirst to see blood and pain
Oh, it's so good to my eyes
But, my hurt, I also have a thirst to drain
All those lies!
They cause some of my bloody red tears
They cause my hardened heart, even when someone dies
Oh, bloddy red tears
They're so good to me
And have been all these years
poem by Amy Parkinson
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Ki Jan-Ilye Is Dead
Dictators die too; nobody is eternal
No one is here on earth for life
All humans are the same and equal
Under the sun of the Almighty God.
Instead of crying, I giggle and laugh
When one of those criminals finally
Kicks the bloody bucket; God
Will always have the last words.
Kill by the swords and you shall die by the swords
Hate only destroys and love heals
Political prisoners are hung by their heels
Beat, mistreated, abused, humiliated
And cowardly assassinated
Always remember, at times, Justice may be slow,
But she will inevitably come at the end of the show.
Ki Jan-Ilye is dead
It is ironically sad
To see crying and weeping the very people
That his regime had oppressed for years
Their reaction turned my heart purple
Mad man, at death, can bring happy tears
That inspire and excite journalists,
Poets, reporters, writers and activists.
Dictators eventually die; only God is eternal
The dreams of the innocent will live forever
The prayers of the victims are sealed in God’s coffer
All humans are identical and equal.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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All Mine
Ive got blood on my hands
From this little timid life
Its just like a man
To trust me with all his might
Ive got blood on my feet
When I kicked you back 3 weeks
If I promised to keep my mouth shut
Can I sit here while you speak
Finally mine
Youre finally all mine
Finally mine
Youre finally all mine
Where did it get me, all mine
What did it teach me, all mine
Somebody stop me
Im losing control again
Ive got honor to earn
But I guess I lost my turn
When will I learn
To treat you with concern
Finally mine
Youre finally all mine
Finally mine
Youre finally all mine
Where did it get me, all mine
What did it teach me, all mine
Somebody stop me
Im losing control again
Where did it get me, all mine
What did it teach me, all mine
Somebody stop me
Im losing control again
All mine
Where did it get me, all mine
Look what it taught me, all mine
Somebody stop me
Im losing control
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deliver Us From Temptation
Freedom" this cry of all slaves will be heard
And the tyrants will feel the steal of the sword
The chains will be broken by all slaves on the earth
Forever to be free from their load
Time has run out for all you tyrants on earth
Your slaves are heedin\' the call
Makin\' an end to all this terror and pain
An end to your lies and your law
Takin\' away all your gold and your money
\'cause dead men don\'t need it anymore
Much too long we felt the slash of your whips
So now you will feel or swords
Freedom the eternal cry will echo high in the sky
The day will come when all power has been broken
Your blood will flow down to the gates of hell
Satan will wait for your souls
Pray to your god he won\'t help you he\'s dead
He won\'t fool our minds and our soul... anymore
Chorus:
Freedom the cry of all slaves will be heard
The tyrants will now feel the steel of the sword
The chains will be broken by all slaves on earth
Chorus
Forever to be free from their load
Chorus
... Forever to be free from their load
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Bleed in Silver
i bleed in silver
metalic color from
the gleam of steel edges
reflected in the moonlight
silver drops
like unicorn's blood
their's filled with magic
mine just with misery
silver blood
from each of us slain
on the tip of razor sharp blades
as a beautiful being
is destroyed and
destroys itself
i bleed in silver
in my world of black
poem by Nick Downer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood on your hands sister
You said you loved him told him you cared
Promised him forever together
Instead you broke his heart into countless pieces
You drew tears of blood from the Prince of hearts
Hurt his pride with your insolent words
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
I saw the pain in his eyes
I felt the bitter tears that he cried
Kicked a man when he was down
You left him a broken man
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
From a loving giving sensitive Prince amongst men
You took your pleasure and stifled his laughter
You took your fill and threw him upon the scrapheap
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
But his precious tears are wasted
Wasted on a dry barren heart like yours
For his heart is alive and flourishing
Whilst yours is dead and lifeless
He is the victor
Whilst you the loser
You may wash your hands of him
But the stains will never fade
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
poem by Lilac Wine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fighting the Ink
I raced across the page
Daring my pen to a race I cannot win
Not wanting for that full stop to end our story
I thought I could live forever in forever land
Live with you so happily
Forever young
But this page cannot hold our story
Everything must end
Come falling down like it must
For, all fairytales, like ours, must end
Cinderella galloped away into the sun
But I will walk into the sun alone,
with you walking away
into the shadows
But I know,
Even though ours has ended,
I still have many stories to write
To live
And many a setting suns to walk into
So with ink blood all over my hands
I bid you fare well
As I end this story with a
FULLSTOP
poem by Racina Rodriguez
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Bloody Paper Dolls
They bleed an ink of green blood
Cut them out
Faces of drawn misfortune
Bodies of frail dresses
Minds of empty blue lines
Given names of whores from distorted streets
Megan molly Shannon mind so weak
Created world of plagiarized lives
These bloody paper dolls have no eyes
They see not the tears upon her face
They bleed words onto the page
Green ink dripping
Soft words describing a life
Take there heads the lose all purpose
Fixed scissors this time ill make a man
Green ink bleeds from the cut up words
And the body it forms
These dolls aren’t real they are a shaken reality
Let her be she has dreams
And I cut the words from this page
I lost my age
I’m old... and still
I have bloody paper dolls all around
They rule my life
They are my reality
My friends
These words now just letters
Green ink stains my finger tips
My bloody dolls you are it.
poem by Victoria Martinez
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If You Want Blood You Got It
Its criminal, there ought to be a law
Criminal, and you know what were shootin for
Shouting at the other guy
When his back is turned
Dont know the reason why
Aint it bout time you learn
If you want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
Blood on the sheets, blood on the rocks
Blood in the gutter, give my last drop
You want blood, you got it
Wha-ooh
Its animal, livin in the human zoo
Its animal, and I know what you gotta do
Its the curse of the working man
Givin more and gettin less
Doin everything he can, cleaning up the mess
If you want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
Blood on the sheets, blood on the rocks
Blood in the gutter, give my last drop
You want blood, you got it
Ooooh (shove it)?
You want blood, you want blood
After you
Blood on the sheets, blood on the rocks,
Blood in the gutter, give my last drop
You want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For My Father... The Slip, Falling
The slip...falling...
Our Father. I beg
The begging. Kneel.
In kneeling, blooded flesh.
Bloody hands' supplication.
Do not lift my soul, eyes, heart.
Not now. Not this day.
I will not pray, but
Our Father...
Hundreds of staples in my
Creator's legs...
Eyes open to ceiling, tears icing
Cold, stainless...stained
Pain.
Sheeted, still form.
Cold hands.
Our Father...my Father-
Why?
'Daughter, ' whispered split lips,
'I love you.'
The slip...falling...
Our Father!
His eyes, mine. Heart, soul...
Steel belief again, rain prayer
To reality.
Reality to prayer...
Our Father...
Where the compassion suffered
On your cross...
Where, the divine guiding...
Surgeons' hands, bloody.
Tears...blood.
Our Father.
Too high this price...for my
Pauper Father.
Where, your salvation...
The slip...falling...
Our Father.
Hear you curses
Louder than prayer?
Clothe demons, not angels?
Do you hear me? Watch me?
See me place yellow roses
On this stone.
The stone which set you free...
With my Father...
Imprisons me.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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