Related quotes: Go where there is pity,...

Pity

Go where there is pity,
Then your eyes can master
A life of luxury, of pain.
Each of your eyes have praise
For your soul, and live with the foe.
The foe is destined to fires unimaginable,
Fed by the flames of honour,
They feed on jelly of flesh,
As numbers are made and letters are withdrawn
From the pages of a book too strong,
That is a book of wondrous pain and strength.

Go the pity and learn a goodness to help
And enchant the funny soul, a man is him
But a woman has been also a soul.
What do the souls cherish? Heaven or Hell
Are individual countries that I trek to,
But do they join? Or do they have borders?
Why do patient people have a case?

poem by Naveed Akram
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Sad eyes (Angel incarnate)

Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I tried hiding but it found me
I tried running but it captured me
I soon realized you can't escape
Not from pain, sorrow, fear or death
They all catch up with us eventually.
I was put here not to suffer
But to learn
To learn what makes sorrow, pain, fear, and death.
To learn, to understand and find a way to ease people's fears of death and to take away their sorrow
Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I know I look youthful but really I'm ancient
I was here a little after the beginning my soul reincarnate always knowing and seeing what I've seen
Never being deceived herself but seeing the deceitful people around her
My eyes are sad because I'm supposed to be innocent but I'm not
They're sad because I can never just be who I am
Because if I do I'll be feared and harmed even though I myself am essentially harmless
I pity those around me but find no pity towards me in others eyes
I'm the angel incarnate
I lost my wings because my tears washed them away

poem by Jenna Camilla
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Denial

for every tear
that we shed
on the grave of
our loved one

another soul
up there
becomes restless

disturbed.

do not cry anymore.
let them have the
needed rest.

you must learn
to forget and learn
to live

your own life
of loneliness

the woman
standing next
to the grave
of your husband
mourns too

fighting her own
battle of
loneliness

look at her
she is broken
too with so much
sorrow

pity, have pity on her.
pity, have pity on yourself too

why should one be overwhelmed with so much sorrow?
when happines lurks just behind you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Pity You

I pity you when you walk down the street
I pity you when you open your mouth to speak
You will tell your story, with its pity and glory
As sympathy is all that you do seek.

I pity you and your parents dear
I pity you when from you they don’t want to hear
As you put them to blame, for your sadness and pain
That’s why for you no-one will shed a tear.

I pity you when you laugh and smile
I pity you as your life is full of guile
But you are the source, for your sadness and remorse
And you wont change even when walking your last mile.

I pity you as you once had something
I pity you as now you have nothing
You threw everything away, so you could stray
Now your retribution will be coming.

I pity you as with time you will age
I pity you with your hate and your rage
You will always fight, whether you are wrong or right
You are the animal and your soul is your cage

I pity you and I do it without a clue
I pity you whenever I see or hear of you
There is no sympathy, as your not my friend or enemy
And all I can say is, that I truly pity you.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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The Book Of Life Was Opened

The Book of Life was opened
And a name was written down
All of heaven stood and gazed
Not a movement, not a sound

The angels watched in silence
As the story did unfold
And from the pages of the book
The story it was told

And life sprung up from off the page
These words became a man
The angels gasped to see such work
To see God's mighty plan

A soul was fashioned in His hand
And how, no one could tell
It was marvelous and wonderful
And this my soul knows well

Where could I go from you Spirit Lord?
Could I hide in the depths of the sea?
No matter where I run to Lord
You still come after me

I could take the wings of the morning
And fly into the darkest night
And there be blinded by the darkness
And you would come and give me sight

I could ascend to the highest heaven
And I would find you there
I could fall to the lowest pits of hell
And discover that you are everywhere

And so you came and sought me out
Even in this hell dark place
For the day and night are both alike
As they gaze upon your face

For in the glorious light of heaven
There is no darkness that can stand
For through the very gates of hell
You came and took me by the hand

And you laid your hand upon me
That hand that gave me birth
That hand that knew me through and through
Before I came to earth

For before the earth was fashioned
That Book was in your hand
Before the sun shone in the sky
All of this was planned

Oh search me God and know my heart
That sin may have no place in me
For I was covered by your Blood
That precious Blood of Calvary

This sin it would assault my soul
And rob and steal and take from me
The testimony of my King
And what He did on Calvary

But praise the Lord there is no power
Neither hell nor death nor misery
Can come against the precious work
The precious work of Calvary

How precious are your thoughts to me
They're more in number than the sand
I'll praise you Lord eternally
My name was written by your hand.

poem by Frank McEleny
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Psalm 139

poem by Frank McEleny
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Twisted Souls

Twisted souls
covered in pain-engraved festers
devoured in darkness
Eroded away from maked-hatred
Past falls from your eyes
like blood, ruby danced, tears
your eyes stare endlessly emotionally
Your pity falls on the audacious
losers that schreech and howl
in pity forever in the lonesome boxes
live in
Twisted souls
Blind to the embezled pride
of the pain-strickened
survivors of the lost they so feasibly endured
twisted souls.
J.V.Boyd

poem by Jeffrey Boyd
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Pain Has Never Left

For an Eternity I’ve felt anger

For a lifetime I’ve felt Pain
I feel pain for the little girl in me that had to grow up before her time
I feel pain for the teenager that never got the chance to have friends to lime
I feel pain for the young woman who everyone used trickery and deceit on
I feel pain for the adult who gave her hold life and soul to carry her baby
I feel pain for the adult who had her baby too early and prayed for him to survive
I feel pain for the woman who watched her son fight to stay with her
I feel pain for the woman who never got to hold him and tell him everything was going to be ok
I feel pain for the soul who watched her son died without doing anything to help him

Today I still feel a stifling pain
Towards the people who should have protected me and did not
I feel pain for the lashes life dealt me
I feel pain for the friends that used me, hurt me both body and soul
I feel pain for the child, girl, woman who could not bring herself to hate anyone
I feel pain, and even after every painful event in my life I could still pray and forgive
I feel pain all over, a pain that may never leave my life

poem by Lisa Roberts
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Dead And Gone

In years from now when I am dead and gone
Will people read the words that I had wrote
If they do will they agree with what they read
And if so truly, understand the feelings I had spoke.
Will they feel the pain and suffering that I felt
In the many days of my own life
Maybe they will etch my feelings inside their soul
And If so, I wonder for me if they will cry.
I wonder if anyone will go into a deep thought
After reading the words that I had spoke
And then will they think and understand that feeling too
While inside their soul or heart a memory I will had awoke.
Maybe they will be with me in those lonesome nights
When my soul and I felt so very alone
When I couldn't sleep so I had to write
While my soul stayed stationary, but my mind it did roam.
And will they feel the pain that I did feel
With every line that I suffered as I did write
Will they shed a tear that my lover never shed for me
While she was always in my heart and in my sight.
And when they finish my book and close it shut
Will they reflect my feelings as they walk away
Will they say they know the pain that I have felt
As they too had felt it in their very own days.
Will they cry the tears that was never cried for me
As they go searching for my last resting place
To give the sympathy they might say I deserve
While trying to visualize my soul through my face.
If they look and find and then walk unto my grave
I wander for me if i will receive long forgotten grieving
Telling me how sad and the pity they hold for me
After reading my words, maybe they will start believing.
And maybe they will walk to the graves of the others
The ones who did me wrong and who sealed my fate
Who made me the poet whom I had to become
Will they tell them their souls, and living they do hate.
So as I finish writing with these last few thoughts
I hope forever my words and feelings will continue on
As I know I am not alone and my pain is not fastened to me
But really who will know, until I am dead and gone.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Grace, 'Tis a Charming Sound

Grace, ’tis a charming sound,
Harmonious to mine ear;
Heaven with the echo shall resound,
And all the earth shall hear.

Grace first contrived the way
To save rebellious man;
And all the steps that grace display
Which drew the wondrous plan.

Grace first inscribed my name
In God’s eternal book;
’Twas grace that gave me to the Lamb,
Who all my sorrows took.

Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.

Grace taught my soul to pray
And made mine eyes o’erflow;
’Twas grace which kept me to this day,
And will not let me go.

Grace all the work shall crown,
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.

O let Thy grace inspire
My soul with strength divine
My all my powers to Thee aspire,
And all my days be Thine.

poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Pain - The Inside Story

Have you seen pain?
No you cannot see.
No you cannot feel.
Only the one who is suffering!
He can see pain.

All you can see is the tears from his eyes.
All you listen, his shivering scream and cries.

You just becomes witness and pray to God.
Still nothing happens and you become sad.

Pain comes to your near or dear.
Brings us more closer to your dear.
Pain comes to any neighbor or stranger.
You close your eyes and then who care.

Transform your pain into creativity.
Transform your pain into spirituality.
Then pain becomes your emotions.
This will cure all your tensions.

Let it flow from heart, instead of body.
Let it flow from soul as your creativity.
- Like words flowing as poetry.
- Like colors flowing as painting.
Then whole world seems changing.
You can see the change in geometry.

The last secret of pain is yet to tell.
Pain is heaven and also pain is hell.
Pain is north pole, pain is south pole.
In our life pain plays an important role.

Pain are two opposite shores of happiness.
One is the beginning other is the end.
One is the Sunset other is the sunrise.
One brings light other brings darkness.

Pain is reaction of our actions.
Pain is results of our 'Karmas.'
What wrong we do, pain is the byproduct.
What right we do still pain is the byproduct.
In first case pain is stored.
In final case pain is released.

Eat chilly for first time, see the pain of belly.
When chilly is released again see the pain of belly.
See the pain when you get cramp.
See the pain when you release the cramp.

This is my inside story about the pain.
I hope my words will not go in vain.

poem by Ramesh Kavdia
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Desert Tree

Starving for water,
Shade an unimaginable luxury,
Surviving blistering heat,
The soul quickly perishing.

Infertile soil is my foundation,
Once nature's prosperous womb,
I am her only child now,
Isolated against this monotonous hell.

Starving for attention,
Contact an unimaginable luxury,
Surviving every lonely day,
The soul quickly perishing.

Cold concrete is my foundation,
Once a path to pass,
I sleep upon her now,
Isolated against this monotonous hell.

poem by Ash Trees
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Bad Blood Of Satan Soul Spat

with her hag spite voice of hate
bad blood of Satan soul spat
at a passing sublime woman pure hearted

“your fat” her repetitive curse crowed
but this good woman with pity turned
thought “fat may diet thin your soul is dammed”

dark soul glorified her hero Satan worshipped
destined to be ever ugly through eternity dammed
beauty looked upon worm heart soul sins shivered

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Believe In You.... Dear

life is full of meaning that only you and i can tell
everything we share and take, is just but a memories
to remember, that we have partake, the pain and joy is
an experienced of life, a thing to ponder, that we live
is not a journey of lossing oneself but a giving of the best
in you, in giving we learn to live again

life has no contenment it is in our heart that makes it
satisfying to live, for in dying oneself we learn that giving is
something most value of what our soul cherish, our heart desire
to live of what is love, but only in giving that we die

life desire the best to live, for in you, i learn to die, a painful life
encounter of my soul, it is in giving of what is dying that the
meaning of existence is dying the most value in you

your not an angel that i forsake, not even God whom i adore,
nor the master of myself that i respect, or a designer of my
destiny, yet your the wisdom of time that makes me what i am

life that i live with you, is but a searcher of who iam in you, in the
universe, in the moment of time where i exist, your something
that my soul can't resist......
a light that transcent beyond my sight
a sky that i can reach and touch
a horizon of rays that only i can feel
a beauty that flows within my soul
a wisdom that only you can whisper in my heart
a voice of en endless time that tells me that i am not alone

life we take in our journey to the beyond time, is wonderful, and the
answer of fate we meet is a beginning of our unending committment
to live where it ends

poem by Antonio Liao
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Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot

Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
When youre down and theyre counting
When your secrets all found out
When your troubles take to mounting
When the map you have leads you to doubt
When theres no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
When the doctors failed to heal you
When no medicine chest can make you well
When no counsel leads to comfort
When there are no more lies they can tell
No more useless information
And the compass spins
The compass spins between heaven and hell
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
And your eyes turn towards the window pane
To the lights upon the hill
The distance seems so strange to you now
And the dark room seems so still
Let your pain be my sorrow
Let your tears be my tears too
Let your courage be my model
That the north you find will be true
When theres no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you upon your way...

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Alphabet

The letters of the Jews as strict as flames
Or little terrible flowers lean
Stubbornly upwards through the perfect ages,
Singing through solid stone the sacred names.
The letters of the Jews are black and clean
And lie in chain-line over Christian pages.
The chosen letters bristle like barbed wire
That hedge the flesh of man,
Twisting and tightening the book that warns.
These words, this burning bush, this flickering pyre
Unsacrifices the bled son of man
Yet plaits his crown of thorns.

Where go the tipsy idols of the Roman
Past synagogues of patient time,
Where go the sisters of the Gothic rose,
Where go the blue eyes of the Polish women
Past the almost natural crime,
Past the still speaking embers of ghettos,
There rise the tinder flowers of the Jews.
The letters of the Jews are dancing knives
That carve the heart of darkness seven ways.
These are the letters that all men refuse
And will refuse until the king arrives
And will refuse until the death of time
And all is rolled back in the book of days.

poem by Karl Shapiro
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The lonely soul Wanders

This is to show that despite people may feel lonely, they truly wallow in their own pity.How pathetic.

The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders

Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders

Alone in the life
He meets many other souls
Who come to be
Unfit for the lonely soul
The lonely soul wanders

poem by Damien Kai
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Real Losers

one is the soul of the country one is the wealth
both seem not to know how best to give to the country

one says one is the real son of the country
the other says he is equally a son of the country
for he helps build up the country, feed the nation
and develop it blood and sweat
]
one insists he is the real master
the other says he wishes to have similar status

both go on and on until they forget there is
a country to be fed, to be built, and both
end up in the drain, soul and wealth

so much to fight over in a country
without much of a country to gain in the end
my pity, my pity

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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With A Pity That You Want

With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
To realize...
A pain you keep.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.

But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And your wants are weak.
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.

But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
Oh...
But you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want,
To show you're one of those...
With a pity that you want,
To show exposed.
With a pity that you want,
To be one of those!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If You Wish To Keep God On Your Side

Many people of the World's greatest religions one common thought do share
They think that they can save their souls from hell by the simple act of prayer
But if there is a God and an afterlife they surely have got it wrong
For God should be for everyone and everyone to God belong.

If you are one who believes in prayer but by God's law does not live
Then your fair God on judgement day much sympathy to you will not give
If you do lack in honour and wrong others in some way
Then your God will not pardon you though hard to him you pray.

Those who do their killing in God's name to his kingdom will not enter in
For murder in God's eyes no matter what the cause is a death of the soul sin
And abuse and rape of others God too find hard to forgive
If you wish to keep God on your side a good life you must live.

There's far more to the soul's salvation than some do realize
For those unequal in the eyes of man would be equal in God's eyes
And if there is an afterlife in another World somewhere
For entry into such a special place one would need more than prayer.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Soul Violence-Tina's Story

I am Violences' Victim
which scarred my soul
slammed it down
to earthly hell
seared it;
burned it;
made it cry

It shriveled
to a gnarled
stunted hulk.

There is no greater pain.
But I endured the pain.
I lived with the pain.
The pain became me'
dominated my life.

I struck out at others.
Cursed others
Wronged friends
who tried to help.

My victim violence
raged against them too.

Yet
over time despite all that
I nurtured my soul.
Gave it milk,
walked with it day by day
toward recovery.

Made it smile once a day
til a little of its pallor came back.

I was Violence's Victim
until I realized
that one has to be willing
to allow the Soul to live
again
if not
then to die
is anti-climatic.

I used to be Violence's Victim
now it runs away
having no more power over me.

And my new power
is not over violence per se
but the power
not to let it
carry forth
from me
to others
another
singe
day.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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