The war
An invisible black hiatus of sadness,
An eerie silence as an immense void,
No beacon of hope in this sad badness,
Hate leaving many spaces destroyed,
Bloody war taking up too much space,
Victims stumbling on a rocky path of life,
Curving fates shyly lifting with sad grace,
Quantum love trying to dissipate the strife,
Cold death keeping the ideology of war,
Winners covering themselves with glory,
Dramatic consequences trying to ignore,
Their thinking becoming increasingly gory.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
The Void
By Samuel Sweetnam
Cold is the Void
That is what we are not
That is where we are to go
That is what we are to become
Dark is the void
That steals the night
That fills the heart
Of the greedy man
Black is the void
That hides the lost
That feeds the beast
That hunts the good
The void is cold
The void is dark
The void is black
The void is torture
If the void is all
We are to become
Then what is left
Is there no hope?
For one small child
Born one dark night
Among the void
Consuming the night
He brought the life
He brought the hope
Some two thousand years ago
He brought us light
So remember this
My dear friend
Of the babe born
On Christmas morn
He brought the Warm
He brought the light
He brought the Love
Among the night.
poem by Samuel Sweetnam
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An Alternate Battle Hymn
To the tune of: The Battle Hymn of the Republic
-
Mine eyes are wide and whitening in the recess of the dark.
They are still and fixed and staring and will shine no more a spark.
In dread of merely dying has my life traced out it's arc,
Will death yet set me free?
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
The bridge of hope has lost her girders.
Oh Gloria, you should have heard her
Cry of misery.
I've been FBI and CIA, a gruff DEA narc.
In the jungles of Columbia I fought the fiercest FARC.
We employed the smart technologies in our hunting of the Snark.
And the game we played was war!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
And peace our victory.
So we planned this operation as a fine stroll in the park;
We'd cut out the poisonous canker as the eagle doth the lark.
Though we stumble and we falter we will always leave our mark,
And write new history.
We'll impose the new world order where our bites' worse than our bark.
We will gamble with the future like a circling vulture shark.
We are all the common soldier in the hell-hole that's Iraq,
And that's the mystery.
Glory! Glory! How much further,
Can you wreck a country to convert her?
It's the same old story – yet absurder,
In this new century!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
Gory! Gory! War is murder!
In this new century!
-
poem by David SmithWhite
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Inanity Vanity Insanity
Slyly she shyly sees
Things that thinking there
Ought naughtily haughtily be
Verily scarily nearly wearily
Eerily enchanting enticingly enthralling
Scaly slithering writhing withering
Fear prejudice fraught malice
Hope sadness broke promises
Love fleeting life leaving
Breath failing beauty wailing
Why cry vie die
poem by Randy Ashby
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Hate Who Hate
I hate those who hate,
I hate myself for not knowing what to hate,
I hate life,
I hate love,
I hate not knowing of my upcoming strife
I hate not know of my oncoming love,
I hate those who hate,
I hate myself
I'd stop to hate for gold of my weight,
I hate all those with wealth,
I hate those who harm,
I hate those who hurt,
I hate those who use their charm,
To put others in the dirt,
I hate living as I ache,
I hate living in earth wake,
I hate people who hate,
I being the one who must be to forsake
Those who hate, must hate me
Because of thou hate I hate thee,
The point i must make,
Leaving myself without this weight
Is that I love to hate,
And all love hate when you hate what they hate.
poem by chris Hamilton
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A Red Carnation As A Symbol
many want to stand for it
love, yes could be,
fire, fire on a green stalk
from whom? from love
yes, yes it could be
bloody, this red carnation
is bloody
but love, love, yes it could be
love, from the pocket
of your black suited heart
oh, yes, bloody, so bloody,
this red carnation, could still be
love, love, yes it could be
how much harm more can
it do
wrecking havoc on innocent
hearts, these bloody, bloody
victims
of love, love, yes, the red
carnation could still be
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Are In My Silence
Cold as death that's what silence means
Numb and dark always sad scenes
But when you came all the closed garden gates
Are filled with music the sadness melts.
Now I find refuge and that is silence
I find a friend I guess in calmness
You house my thoughts if I don't talk
I paint a smile even as I walk.
My silence means only one reason
Busying myself with only one person
Thinking in the morning or in the afternoon
I even feel like a weightless balloon.
You are in my silence can't you listen
I don't want to think there are things I'm missing
It must be magic It might be love
Thinking 'bout it makes a quick throb.
You are in my silence as natural as I breathe
Like the stars in the sky and the letters in my sheets
You appear in my thoughts in every waking moment
I love thinking of you, always, I'll keep silent.
poem by Naida Supnet
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Iridescent
You were standing in the wake of
devastation
And you were waiting on the edge of the
unknown
And with the cataclysm raining down
Insides crying 'Save me now'
You were there, impossibly alone
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
And in a burst of light that blinded every
angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into
stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
No one there to catch you in their arms
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
Let it go
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Where Is The Child?
love is blind,
life is wild,
death is wide,
where is the child?
hatred everywhere,
badness fills the air,
life is so unfair,
where is the child?
no one is funny,
bees make no honey,
everyone is running after money,
where is the child?
hearing no good voice,
there is much noise,
by a freaky gang of boys,
where is the child?
no one is having a good dream,
everyone wants to scream,
there is no more white cream,
where is the child?
purity is gone,
children have no fun,
badness is now in everyone,
where is the child?
there is no more respectable art,
no real love in any heart,
sadness in every part,
where is the child?
where is the child?
where is the child?
poem by Sarah Abu Zeid
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The Farewell
'Tis not the untried soldier new to danger
Who fears to enter into active strife.
Amidst the roll of drums, the cannon's rattle,
He craves adventure, and thinks not of life.
But the scarred vetran knows the price of glory,
He does not court the conflict or the fray.
He has no longing to rehearse that gory
And most dramatic act, or wars dark play.
He who to love has always been a stranger,
All unafraid may linger in your spell.
My heart has known the warfare, and its danger.
It craves no repitition - so farewell.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Fall From Grace
A fall from Grace can be subtle, when one’s life is one rebuttal,
Of those ways from Jesus Christ, as one lives their earthly life.
A life pursuing their own desires, following ways of carnal liars,
While the Truth they have learned, by their life, now is spurned.
Saved by God’s amazing grace, they now go to a darker place,
Leaving God’s glorious Light, back to ways that seem not right.
No longer obeying the Holy Spirit; spurning Truth as they hear it.
They simply live their life in denial, but blame God for every trial.
Leaving God’s sure narrow way, onto a worldly path, day to day,
Headed down a darkened path, that will end in Righteous Wrath,
Anger of a Righteous God, to turn them from the path they trod,
From the present slippery slope, back to a stable path of Hope.
God’s conviction they dismiss, as they fabricate an empty bliss,
A deception that they are free, from the life they’d led previously.
When they abided in The Lord, before, by sins, they were allured,
Now thinking, all is well within, while their life caters to all their sin.
But, now gone, is the peace inside, when in Christ they did abide,
Not only is that peace denied, but from the Lord they cannot hide.
Who will seek until their restored, back unto the side of their Lord,
That they’ll find, as the only place, of joy and peace, is His Grace.
I Hate (pleas read and vote! ! !)
I hate the way you make me feel,
I hate that you think you can read my mind,
I hate crying over you,
I hate that you say you care but you don't,
I hate the way you talk to me,
I hate the way you snap over little thing's,
I hate that you don't trust me more over then
someone who did worse then I,
I hate being a prisoner and a segregate mother,
I hate that I can't breath around you with out getting
yelled at.
I hate being accused of eating to much when I only eat
1 or 2 meals a day,
I hate of thinking of pro's and con's of living with you,
I hate of being a scrub,
I hate that I hate of being in this apartment that I live in,
I hate being so unhappy,
I hate that I'm about to cry right now,
I hate being a closed curtain,
I hate being the least favorite,
I hate that I hate my body because you criticize me about it,
I hate how you feel when you come home,
I hate of being scared of the time when I'm with friends,
I hate that I think your hiding me,
I hate that I love being invisible sometimes,
I hate that I'm sorry for hating,
and I hate that I hate.
poem by Melissa Schreuder
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Slaughter In A Grave
It's a killer and it's prowls
Night after night
It's murderer in the vault
It lives for a fight
It's a story of soul
That has come for revenge
On murderous grounds he
Seeks his victims for the night
Listen to the night for
The shout of the skull
It's the call of death's return
And the vengeance of the God
It's a bad land and the
Storm comes to chill
It's a passage and the killer
Feels remorse to kill in fear
It's a victims who fixes the man with hate
A dead man drives crime in his
Fate so near
In the black vault the strange
Spirit commands the victims soul
To return in his body and to
Revenge his bloody murder so cold
On the screaming place
Mad spirit reighs with his killing soul
On his crazy face the vengeance
Makes it's course with fever...
In vaults
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Stones
Anointment of any prefix was hurting
I started shedding the names.
To fill the void, dialogues were not sufficient.
So many of thorns, without seeing,
in flesh, reading the closed mind, to
reach the inner blue.
After dark bloody spills on the rose petals,
you stagger on white tendons;
cracking the fright, peeling off the truth.
How nervous was the death to tread in.
In the pit, no sound, no hiding.
Deep down was hung a turmoil.
calling a name, when night was sad
and lightning was lifting the clouds.
The city of stones in me, the solar system
the galaxies, were stumbling out in defeat.
poem by Satish Verma
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Silence and pain
Silence has built a wreckage of a girl
Silence feeds on her loneliness.
Bringing with it pain and sadness
Black clouds haunt and torment.
A young woman is struck and wrecked.
Struck, wrecked and destroyed by depression.
There is no sound of laughter or joy here.
she has chucked in the towel today
Her soul slowly rots away into decay.
soon depression will claim her.
Emptiness builds itshome in this young woman
Silence and sadness has bred her soul and heart.
A deepening sea of nowhereness consumes
And eats away at every connecting thread
Confusion feeds like a savage inside her,
Leaving no worthy remains
Destined to walk through life Alone.
She realises her fate.
She knows depression will forever have a hold
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Love's story
Her name was love,
she lived on a beautiful island,
she bathed in the warmth of the sea,
she wore beautiful dresses,
she had no troubles to see.
She danced in the rays of the Sun,
she sang cheerful song
and it was such a fun
to dance all day long.
But one day the weather has changed
taking the kingdom of Love under the water,
making the land space smaller and shorter.
The boats have left in a hurry
leaving Love without any hope
and Love began to worry
thinking of how the trouble to cope.
She asked the Treasures for help
but heard a disappointed answer:
All is here for me only
and there is no place for the others.
Then Love addressed to the Sadness
still trying to survive
The Sadness answered to her:
You can try swimming or may be dive.
Then Love ran to the Gladness
but it could not hear her well
cause of the noise which was like madness.
Loosing any hope Love saw the Time
It flied with big and strong wings and it said:
Come on! Sit down on my wings!
Love smiled happily again
acknowledging it could remain alive
and don't have to dive.
Now Love lives happily on our Land
letting everyone to understand
that it doesn't know kneeling,
it's got her own feeling,
it's got her own wings
and happiness it brings.
There is not enough gold in this world to pay for it,
it is always young and never is old.
That's the story Love has told.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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the poor rich boy named Al
you say, you pity him, he has everything
and today, he commits the greatest blunder of living
killing himself
did he leave a note? did he call you before he took his last breath?
he didn't
he wants to die a silent death, one that can be mistaken as a
happy death, goodbye, pretty world,
i am finally leaving you
no problems
sometimes i may get you wrong pitying the poor little rich boy
who had everything
and who despite everything he has, , , , this everything, these all these
all these that you want to have but couldn't have any
cars, boats, diversified business, real estate,
cruises, money, money and more money
buying happiness here and there
only to find that
he is finally lost and cannot find his way back home
to himself
finding the emptiness of a mother who dies
more recently, because of extreme loneliness
amidst the crowd, the socializing and the
loud music of not belonging to anything
to anyone
he still kills himself, and you
feel this kind of pity, this wastage of human resource,
you are thinking and you have this line of thinking
that those who died by killing themselves are a waste
an epitome of unhappiness
bizarre, a sadness galore, unexplainable
i disagree, they are happier, and have chosen the smooth path
of laying their lives with their own hands in the altar of
the gods of early, handy, packaged death
and i wonder if you feel the guilt of them thinking
i am taking this life, and it is none of your business,
damn, damn, this empty space is now reserved for you
because, who knows, you may be next, my dear jeannie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Winners Are Always The Heroes
The winners are always the heroes in life it is always this way
The losers are quickly forgotten though a fine and sporting
game they did play
'Tis only a sport it may well seem where people chase after a ball
But many take football quite seriously though 'tis only a game after all,
The winners are always the heroes and that's how it always will be
The fans of the winners are singing rejoicing in their victory
Life and sports are akin in many ways though some may say 'tis only a game
The winners get all of the applause and the winners can bask in their fame,
The winners are always the heroes and the winners get all of the praise
And always only to the winners the toasters their toasting glasses raise
The losers are quickly forgotten though some must lose for some to win
Yet some look on losing as shameful to them there is no greater sin,
In life as in sport the poor losers are the people the masses ignore
And in football the really big hero is the one who kicks the winning score.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Like or unlike
Like the yellow leaves melting softly,
Or unlike the blue wind blowing loudly;
Like the frost with no power of keeping the life,
Or unlike the warmth allowing the life to rise; ,
Like a dying time in a scarlet autumn
Or unlike the birth of life in the green spring;
Like thinking of temporary in the elderly,
Or unlike the youth thinking of their lasting life; ,
Like the innocence sighing in the bleeding love ruins
Or unlike the guiltiness laughing in the richness of bloody hate.
.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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I Love I Hate
I love, loveing
I hate, hateing
I love going
I hate waiting
I hate depression
I love joys
I hate most girls
I love most boys
I love my friends
I hate my life
I love people
I hate the strife
I hate work
I love cake
I hate crisco
I love to bake
I love rollercoasters
I hate horror stuff
I love the night
I hate it when life is rough
I hate myself
I love nice things
I hate jerks
I love opal rings
poem by Clare McCarthy
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Cygnus X-1
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee, alex lifeson, and neil peart
Book one ---- the voyage
Prologue
In the constellation of cygnus
There lurks a mysterious, invisible force
The black hole
Of cygnus x-1
Six stars of the northern cross
In mourning for their sisters loss
In a final flash of glory
Nevermore to grace the night....
1
Invisible
To telescopic eye
Infinity
The star that would not die
All who dare
To cross her course
Are swallowed by
A fearsome force
Through the void
To be destroyed
Or is there something more?
Atomized ---- at the core
Or through the astral door ----
To soar....
2
I set a course just east of lyra
And northwest of pegasus
Flew into the light of deneb
Sailed across the milky way
On my ship, the rocinante
Wheeling through the galaxies,
Headed for the heart of cygnus
Headlong into mystery
The x-ray is her siren song
My ship cannot resist her long
Nearer to my deadly goal
Until the black hole ----
Gains control....
3
Spinning, whirling,
Still descending
Like a spiral sea,
Unending
Sound and fury
Drowns my heart
Every nerve
Is torn apart....
To be continued
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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