Death Blooms
the safe places seems to run out
people in the world starts to doubt
they wonder if they must hide or be free
escaping from the danger of reality
there was a prophecy called revealation
the master's plan towards extinction
does this world will become oblivion
by the cammanders of the zion
it is the creation of man
the weapons, the war and everything they can
that seems to be the reason of this world to wither
and also the reason for our life to taste bitter
vile thoughts and lifeless conspiracies
giving life to the body of eschatologies
death, murder, kill, death, murder.........
those things seems to rise faster
Related quotes
Meat Is Murder
Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
Its death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the calf that you carve with a smile
Is murder
And the turkey you festively slice
Is murder
Do you know how animals die ?
Kitchen aromas arent very homely
Its not comforting, cheery or kind
Its sizzling blood and the unholy stench
Of murder
Its not natural, normal or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour
Of murder
No, no, no, its murder
No, no, no, its murder
Oh ... and who hears when animals cry ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat Is Murder
Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER
And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
It's death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER
And the calf that you carve with a smile
Is MURDER
And the turkey you festively slice
Is MURDER
Do you know how animals die ?
Kitchen aromas aren't very homely
It's not "comforting", cheery or kind
It's sizzling blood and the unholy stench
Of MURDER
It's not "natural", "normal" or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour
Of MURDER
NO, NO, NO, IT'S MURDER
NO, NO, NO, IT'S MURDER
Oh ... and who hears when animals cry
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knife
Slit and
Slither knife
Penetrate in phallic push
To perforate the pulse of tissues in the flesh
Slice a vein to drain the unsuspecting victim
E’er they bleed and plea
Their scream
Of death
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Man
Puzzled she is
What she wants she knows
To murder that man
A knife she'll throw
This man she hates
He has tortured her with all
All so he can enjoy
her desprate fall
Because of this man
murder she dreams
His death she'll celebrate
While weapons make her team
She wants this man to die
But the torture must first come
He must suffer far more than her
To forgiveness she is numb
People may say she's cruel
But they know not what he did to her
He ruined her life
of this she's sure
This man was supposed to care
To show forever love
But for some reason he hated her
he showed that with every shove
She has plans for this man
So his death is terribly bad
But she can't bring herself to do it
Because this man is her dad
poem by Silent Speaker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Prime Commandment
The Prime Commandment
Of Murder, Manslaughter, Homicide! Oh! Such is this a Crime.
The three whilst so common are often much confused.
Murder is planned, intentional, real and with life, on the line.
With which DARK evil forces take hand in hand.
Manslaughter, whilst wicked is unplanned or premeditated.
Or so it is oft pleaded and said anyway.
Manslaughter, Murder, Homicide, ? The saddest of all fates.
Best avoided, if one is to reach an old age?
Learn? Homicide chiefly occurs in a Murder!
………………………………………………………….
Manslaught er, a soft cloak for Murder sublime.
In self-defence Murder can be culpable.
Most Cops and Crime victims from time to time agree.
Justifiable, some say, in preventing atrocious crime.
But! No one has a just cause to Murder.
Life of a King, President, Fly or a Bum is still precious.
To Kill, should not form any part of Life’s plan.
Make just natural life wastage healthy reason to develop.
May those a hawking DEATH rot forever in their HELL! -------------------
The Thousandth Man 12th December 2007
poem by Philip Winchester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Different People
Two different people
Black people, white people
Black world, White world
A black person thinks different from the white people
White people thinks highly of himself
White people works very hard for his living
Black's are lazy
They don't want to work, they just want the money
You have to work for the money, they just don't get it
White people knows that there are no free ride in life
Black's want a free ride, there are no free ride in life
Nothing is free in life except for the air that you breathe
The white people have to be careful of what they say to the black People
Whatever you say to the black people if they don't like it they will say it Is discrimination
We can't understand them
They have a mind of their own
The white people are loving and caring
What about the black people?
Not a hope in hell
I don't want any part of the black world
The black world is not safe for me
So I rather stay in my white world where I feel safe
We can't trust them
The reason why there is violence in this world is because the black People cause it
Now they don't like it because they have to live with it
We want a safe world for our people
The black people don't care about it because the only thing they know And seen is violence
There is too much violence on TV
They like it
They like the feeling of danger
We white don't like the feeling of danger
The blacks hate the white people and the white people don't like them Either
The white people knows when to shut up
The black people never knows when to shut up
There is why there are always problem with them
They make life miserable for us
The white people will always be a good friend
The black people can never be your friend
They will take everything they can get from you for free
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those That KNow Reasoning
You cannot have what isn't yours
You cannot give what isn't yours
You cannot take what wasn't given to you
You cannot own what belongs to no one
You cannot buy what is not for sale
You cannot discover something when there are already people there
You cannot earn something that is worthless
You cannot celebrate victories never won
You should not die for no reason
You should not hate for no reason
You should not quarrel for no reason
You should not defend for no reason
You should not kill for no reason
You should not murder for any reason
You should not destroy for the sake of destruction
You should not build for the sake of building
You should dance for no reason
You should laugh for no reason
You should smile for no reason
You should love for no reason
You should go for the sake of traveling
You should know for the sake of knowing
You should venture out or you will stagnate
You should respect Mother Nature
You should share the planet for it is all we have
You should make peace for this is reason
In war there are no winners, only those who are left
Death, life, love, friends, and family are the only thing worthwhile in existence worthy of celebration
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Premeditation
Oh blade you'll warm tonight!
Awash in crimson-purple flows,
Your sheen will dull with aching flesh:
Palpating anatomic mounds
Caressing, dancing, writhing round
Your metal form-
Whetted ‘gainst a lonely bone,
Then to probe the pounding, begging heart.
And all the while the prey will howl
Before they crumple; greet the mud-
A taut and unbelieving jowl
Will open out for giving blood-
A vent from down below,
Once a brutal show
Of metal in the man.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murderer
I murder in the morning
I murder late at night
l murder when the time is right
l murder my family
l murder my friends
l murder anyone who gets in my way
l kill you with a gun
l kill you with a knife
l kill you with poison
l'm a murderer
l'm going to kill you now
don't scream
don't yell
don't fight me
just sit there and
DIE
DIE
DIE
DIE! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Rebecca Succes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is murder
When you take away a life
With the aid of a knife
It is murder
While you extinguish the living with a gun
Without being able to recreate what was born
It is murder
If you feed someone dead tablets
Later have second acrimonious regrets
It is murder
You are taking away a life
It is clinging on to survive
Need I say anymore further
It is murder
Murder sprung by a fling
With ropes or a string
Your hands only bring
Death around a necks ring
Execution by suffocation
Condemned with abomination
Deliberate foetus termination
It is murder
Make no mistake,
Be careful
Asleep or awake!
Murder is unlawful
If death occurs because of the effects of an evil curse
I will say this with my lips pursed
'What a great loss, but this is not murder!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World is Black
Death and destruction, all for no reason
Wars and bombings based only on rumors
Suicide and murder in all seasons
Earth is a society of consumers
Death and hatred not shocking anymore
Growing repititous in newspapers
Scenes upon scenes of dead bodies and gore
The air swarming with poisonous vapors
Dying seems to be a popular trend
Is becoming okay in the world's eyes
All this chaos never going to end
Until everyone meets their demise
People and countries all under attack
The world is evil, the world is pitch black
poem by Jared Anders
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kill In The Spirit World
Theres something wrong theres a chill in the air
And the blood in my veins running colder
The eastern sky is beginning to silver
And the words that you speak start to falter
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
In the house of the dead theres a taker
Some say that this is the ultimate sin
When the spirit world turns to the alter
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Behold the dead clutching at fading hands, out of reach forever
In glory die calls the voice of the void
Your assassin has cursed every spectre
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
And the house of the dead seeks a master
Stretching every muscle, I wait for the end
And a kiss on the wind whispers murder, murder
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
When heaven is closer, its pleasure and pain
Kill in the spirit world
Did you see another in black
Is the blood in your veins running colder
If you did then theres no turning back
As the spirit world turns to the alter
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
And the house of the dead seeks the master
Stretching every muscle, I wait for the end
And a kiss on the wind whispers murder, murder
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Oh here it comes, oh no
The seal is broken, the eastern sky is beginning to silver
Theres something wrong, theres a chill in the air
I feel the evil, I feel the evil
Somebody whispers murder
A kiss on the wind whispers murder
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murder In Her Eyes
Some say she's bitter,
some say she's sweet.
They know her by her shimmer,
Oh how sometimes her crime can be so neat.
She makes her enemies real slick,
she makes her friends so easily.
Although her enemies slaughter is real quick,
but she's a generous person, really.
The murder in her eyes
reveals her disguise,
The taste of her enemies blood,
she cannot recognize.
She seeks for revenge
For only those who caused her agony and avenge.
The murder shows who she truly is.
The sweet girl with a bloody blade in her hand.
Her enemies dead body laying on the floor
as she laughs and hounds as her enemies body rots to the core.
The murder in her eyes is severe...
Something that nobody dares to conquer
They laughed at her in the past,
She knew their life's wouldn't last.
The murder in her eyes hides the tides of her personality
for her enemy's, she loves to rec their reality.
No one ever thought she could do that.
Until they saw her true disguise which showed the murder...
Murder in her eyes.
poem by Katellyne Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The reason i want death?
The reason i want death?
That is a simple question.
The reason i want death?
Is it becuz im emo?
The reason i want death?
Cuz she's gone now.
The reason i want death?
Cuz im not loved.
The reason i want death?
Cuz i love her.
The reason i want death?
Cuz im dark.
THE REASON I WANT DEATH IS BECUZ I HATE MY LIFE! ! !
poem by Dylan Griffin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murder is Bad and Why?
The Man spoke:
'It is in the murdering' he said
that I find the most puzzlement.
Why should I or anyone not murder
one and all. It is, I think, human's basic instinct.
'Look' he said to the priest 'is not all of history;
more a story of murderous war than peace and tranquility?
'So what is most common to human nature?
Seems clear to me, humans murder their fellows, rest up during the peace
and, as soon as possible, get back to the murdering.'
The priest:
'Murder is wrong in God's eyes and in the eyes of society and
the murderer will pay with fire and brimstone, and the death penalty.
Ending murder is the bedrock of all society, even pirates have a code
that says don't murder your fellows.
Humm, said the man 'Society has several faces; it is ok to murder in war, but
not in peace. Where here is the consistency?
Even your God says do not take life but vengeance is mine and murdering in retaliation, he says, is mine. Seems murder is at best relative; sometimes the act of the monster and sometimes the act of the hero in war.
Who decides which is which; and I tell you father I see no hand of God in this but that of politicians. And no one will mistake them for God.
The Sociologist spoke then:
Well, here the point is clear; we kill those who threaten the peace and make society impossible by preying upon the weak. Without restraint bandits and warlords would rule, look abroad Iraq, Afghanistan and the rest. Rule by guns and by the strong is a recipe in the end for mankind's extinction. Therefore, we have the rule murder is not only bad, but stopping murder promotes the good.
The Little Girl:
I think God, and society makes murder bad to protect the children. I think God and society makes things crimes to protect us from adults who would be cruel and leave no one to grow up to inherit this earth.
The Democrat:
There lies the convincing point. Murder is bad because not murdering gives the species a better chance at survival. What species eat their young and have survived? None.
But the larger point is I think is that the genius needed for society to meet all its challenges cannot be predicted. Therefore, all must be preserved because no one can predict from where, or whom, critical keys to human survival will evince.
Take Einstein: who would have made the prediction that a math-challenged youngster would change the world? No one. So the point, kill no one since you are not God and can't know where human salvation will come from.
The Priest said:
Yes, and imagine the world, if Jesus had lived.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fascination
Death fascinates;
Life can be cruel.
Death is my morbid but most-loved obsession.
Life is hard-
I am out of control.
Death is my relationship to reality-
Life is not fair.
Death is an entity of beauty, though
Life is strange…
Death is veracity, although it can be
The facet of my delusions-
I live my life while
Thoughts of death are so often invasive.
Death is mysterious, and
Life is a river refracting light-
Death is dark but intriguing.
Life is amazing.
Death in turn- is amazing as it can be.
I live my life in a dream world.
Death is indeed mysterious, although-
Life
Is
Stranger…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murder Me
Kill me,
Jump Me,
End my life like I care,
Take this gun and shoot me,
Don’t look,
Don’t Stop,
Just murder me,
Just end my life tonight,
As I no longer care,
Or dare to speak of his name,
Or cry out his name in vein,
Murder me,
Murder me here,
Just end it now,
End my suffering,
Make it go away,
Just help me from feeling this rage inside of me bursting to get out,
Please kill me here,
Take this knife and murder me.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poison of Revenge
I saw the world fall to darkness
And a rage build within
My thoughts spat with a venom
They called for revenge
To trust none by their word
And watch all in every action
The world became divided
Between them and I
Words held no reason to hear
For they echoed false promise
The deceit I had felt
Strikes deep into my heart
Blinded by anger and fear
Lost in a tumult of the irrational
I turn against myself
The beliefs I held in place fall apart
Ah the poison of revenge
The bitter vile taste of it
Sours my blood and tongue
Beware the call of vengeance
And the dark world which it brings
For it is the elixir before demise
A poison to all life
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's In It For Me?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE TIME FOR TWITTER AND FACEBOOK, BUT NONE FOR THEMSELVES OR OTHERS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE A HUNDRED 'FRIENDS' ON FACEBOOK,
BUT NOT EVEN TEN IN REAL LIFE
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE EMOTE WITH EMOTICONS BUT NOT WITH THEIR FACES,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE PREFER TO WRITE 'LOL' RATHER THAN ACTUALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR COMPUTER MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES MORE ONLINE THAN OFF IT,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN SPOT THE ERROR IN SOMEONE'S TYPING BUT CANNOT SPOT A TEAR IN A FRIEND'S EYE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN GROW ANY CROP ONLINE BUT CANNOT EVEN PICK UP A SPADE IN REAL LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE RELISH THE FOOD AT MCDONALDS AND DOMINOS, BUT CRIB OVER HOME COOKED FOOD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE ARE READY TO KILL FOR A FEW SHREDS OF PAPER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE KILL IN THE NAME OF RELIGION,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE A MAN IS READY TO KILL HIS BROTHER OVER PROPERTY AND MONEY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF MONEY IS MORE THAN THE VALUE OF LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE LIVING A LIFE IS TOUGHER THAN KILLING A LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE IT'S EASIER TO EARN MONEY BY CHEATING THAN BY WORKING HONESTLY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF A GIFT IS THROUGH ITS PRICE AND NOT ITS EMOTIONS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS THROUGH HIS CAR AND HOUSE RATHER THAN HIS CHARACTER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR POSSESSIONS MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS AND PARENTS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE LOVED AND PEOPLE ARE USED,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE DO ANYTHING FOR A BETTER PAY BUT NOTHING FOR A BETTER CONSCIENCE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD IS BAD AND I KNOW THAT BUT SILL IF I WIN THIS WORLD,
WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
poem by Deepak Hariharan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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