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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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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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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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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Remove the word war out of mind and dictionary
Me and mine in man
Created hate and boundaries
Converted them into countries
Filled
Cast, color, creed and religion
In the minds of people
To possess more and more
Became the ultimate goal
Wars resulted
Killing the innocent
In the name of god,
Land and authority
Became passion of many
Innocent men, women
And children died
Millions wounded
Many lived without limbs
Throughout their lives
Families broke
Lives displaced
For the ego of few
New arms invented
New methods of killing
Designed
Madness continues
From many ages
Leaders talk about humanity
But act like demons
Let the madness end
Throws the arms in the sea
Live like humans
Remove the word war
Out of mind and dictionary
Let the goal be
Love and humanity
Irrespective of
Color, religion or country
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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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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Does War Bring Peace
I had learned power increases, when we preserve,
But, I see each are showing their strength
I had learned powerful never shows it
But, I see each are showing their strength as exhibition.
I had asked once to my father why is power being used,
He replied me it’s for peace by the country to rebellion
I wondered how a peace is brought by guns
I thought peace is dropping of guns
Now, I have got new knowledge for peace
It’s the path of blood, which brings blood
And ends where only in saying, place is coming
But when will it come only the killers know
Yes, terrorism is about to end coz each human will be dead
Due to one determination of people that blood shed will bring peace to bed.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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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
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Revolution Of Freedom For The Innocents Of Our Land
You hear the cries of many
As they cry to be free from all that is
The wars of human kind
Lay desolate to our lands
The dictatorship of life
Affects all of us in life
But how do we stand up
To the wars that kill our land
Innocent lives are many
Wasted upon the ground of life
Can you ignore the blood shed?
Of so many lost souls of war
Then one soul stands alone
Tired of the chaos of this world
And stands for the freedom
Of innocents of our land
THE MOMENTEM STARTS AS ONE
A voice that needs to be heard
Believe what you say
And mean every single word
If you believe in life
Then lay down the weapons of war
If you believe in love
Then accept human's beliefs for what they are
If you believe in peace
Then accept all races all religions
As equals in this world
If you believe in all of the above
Then you're a special human being
Never doubt your word
Never doubt who you are
Speak up for all those innocents
If this is what you believe
poem by Kaila George
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Stand Fast!
Stand fast, Great Britain!
Together England, Scotland, Ireland stand
One in the faith that makes a mighty land,
True to the bond you gave and will not break
And fearless in the fight for conscience' sake!
Against the Giant Robber clad in steel,
With blood of trampled Belgium on his heel,
Striding through France to strike you down at last,
Britain, stand fast !
Stand fast, brave land!
The Huns are thundering toward the citadel;
They prate of Culture but their path is Hell;
Their light is darkness, and the bloody sword
They wield and worship is their only Lord.
O land where reason stands secure on right,
O land where freedom is the source of light,
Against the mailed Barbarians' deadly blast,
Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, dear land!
Thou island mother of a world-wide race,
Whose children speak thy tongue and love thy face,
Their hearts and hopes are with thee in the strife,
Their hands will break the sword that seeks thy life;
Fight on until the Teuton madness cease;
Fight bravely on, until the word of peace
Is spoken in the English tongue at last,
Britain, stand fast!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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The Blood On Satan's Sword
They gather in congregation.
Their prophet wired into their core.
To avoid, and yet, to conquer.
The blood on Satan's sword.
They are the modern virtue.
The wax shaping onto the floor.
Solidified to overcome.
The blood on Satan's sword.
And as they all embraced their symbol.
It's fear encased within their mental.
All saintly men have cowered and trembled.
At the blood on Satan's sword.
They say we'll all be torn asunder.
If we don't fear the darkest thunder.
Then we'll face the infernal slumber.
And taste the blood on Satan's sword.
Terrified and forlorn.
Still, an answer one man seeks.
The so-called blood on Satan's sword.
Why has it always gone unseen?
He has questioned their fixed path.
They swear he'll see the fiery bath.
The stained glass adorned with wrath.
The holiest evil now is cast.
Onward they wander in plight
Are they praising whats wrong or whats right?
Raising their royal swords, not pride?
Their blades dripping of crimson lost life.
poem by Aaron Lynn
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Genteel Madness
Devolved into a genteel kind of madness
And no longer beloved today
Morphed more…into a still stranger likeness
Removed of reality in every way
Scant recognizable
In the mirror of my mind
As well reflection
In rain silvered window
This genteel kind of madness
Be it yours? …tis it mine?
And if tis truly madness
How would one truly know?
poem by David Whalen
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I Trust In Jesus
Before this body turns to dust
Before this world I leave
Upon The Lord I've placed my trust
Upon The Rock I'll cleave
I've placed my trust in Jesus Christ
God's Son of flesh and bone
The innocent Lamb sacrificed
I trust His word alone
I trust He chose for man to die
Then rose again to reign
That as God's Seed He'd multiply
His flock when born-again
I trust His blood can cleanse the soul
I trust His blood can save
His very name can make us whole
And save us from the grave
I trust in Jesus' loving care
I trust He bore my shame
I trust the love He came to share
Remains today the same
I trust the pardon Jesus bought
Can save this wretch from hell
I trust Salvation's true report
My Saviour had to tell
Although the devil's out to harm
Though Satan's he's out to kill
I trust my Lord's almighty arm
I trust His righteous will
I trust my life to Christ The Lord
I trust in Heaven's Door
I trust in God's Almighty Sword
I'll trust Him evermore…
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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I Trust In Jesus
Before this body turns to dust
Before this world I leave
Upon The Lord I’ve placed my trust
Upon The Rock I’ll cleave
I’ve placed my trust in Jesus Christ
God’s Son of flesh and bone
The innocent Lamb sacrificed
I trust His word alone
I trust He chose for man to die
Then rose again to reign
That as God’s Seed He’d multiply
His flock when born-again
I trust His blood can cleanse the soul
I trust His blood can save
His very name can make us whole
And save us from the grave
I trust in Jesus’ loving care
I trust He bore my shame
I trust the love He came to share
Remains today the same
I trust the pardon Jesus bought
Can save this wretch from hell
I trust Salvation’s true report
My Saviour had to tell
Although the devil’s out to harm
Though Satan’s he’s out to kill
I trust my Lord’s almighty arm
I trust His righteous will
I trust my life to Christ The Lord
I trust in Heaven’s Door
I trust in God’s Almighty Sword
I’ll trust Him evermore…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Blood Of The Worlds Hands
Sometimes it make me wonder
Sometimes it make me question
Sometimes it make me saddened
Always it makes me angry but...
When you can see it happening
The madness thats all around you
Nobody seems to worry
The world seems so powerless to act...
Its out of control
Blood on the worlds hands
Each day a new toll
Another assassination
The same day a new creation
But what are they coming into
Security of a world that brings...
One day another killing
Somewhere theres someone starving
Another savage raping
Meanwhile theres someone laughing at us
Its out of control
Blood on the worlds hands
Each day it goes on
Brutality and agression
Tomorow another lesson
Expecting another air raid
Praying for a ceasefire...
They say things are getting better
No need to be complacent
Theres chaos across the border
And one day it could be happening to us
Its out of control
Blood on the worlds hands
Its our epitaph
Its out of control
Someone should know
Blood on the worlds hands
Someone should
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I trust JESUS.......
Before this body turns to dust
Before this world I leave
Upon The Lord I’ve placed my trust
Upon The Rock I’ll cleave
I’ve placed my trust in Jesus Christ
God’s Son of flesh and bone
The innocent Lamb sacrificed
I trust His word alone
I trust He chose for man to die
Then rose again to reign
That as God’s Seed He’d multiply
His flock when born-again
I trust His blood can cleanse the soul
I trust His blood can save
His very name can make us whole
And save us from the grave
I trust in Jesus’ loving care
I trust He bore my shame
I trust the love He came to share
Remains today the same
I trust the pardon Jesus bought
Can save this wretch from hell
I trust Salvation’s true report
My Saviour had to tell
Although the devil’s out to harm
Though Satan’s he’s out to kill
I trust my Lord’s almighty arm
I trust His righteous will
I trust my life to Christ The Lord
I trust in Heaven’s Door
I trust in God’s Almighty Sword
I’ll trust Him evermore…
poem by Ritika Abigail Masih
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War is...
War is fighting brothers,
War is bombs exploding,
War is crying mothers,
War is bodies floating.
War is following orders,
War is young dated,
War is falling mortars,
War is time wasted.
War is mixed blood,
War is true sadness,
War is wet mud,
War is ultimate madness.
War is innocent deaths,
War is many tears,
War is unwelcomed guests
And they all last for years.
poem by Cody Stephen Heldak
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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
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World At War
All hands on deck.
Were at the brink of another war.
May god save our soul.
For chaos will reign with the hot embers of a past fire.
A holocaust in a sick sense.
A massacre of millions and billions of men, women, and children.
The scale could be devastating.
Life as you know it is over.
No where to hide. isolationism is dead in the water.
We are being taken over and exploited in every way.
Our freedoms gone. slaves to the minimum wage.
Revolt and we all die.
Is this the reasons we sacrificed so many lives.
Forsaken by our own people.
Told that if we speak out against them we must be one of them those terrorist without even making a threat.
Oh what have we done?
Can you yet see the anger of regret.
This battle becomes a guerrilla war.
Every state out for itself.
A completely divided nation.
A collapse of many cultures and civilization.
This is one that no one can win.
No matter the intent.
Another cold war.
Tip toe, in the most round bout way.
Because annihilation will destroy all civilizations.
No backing down.
Great men stroking their ego's with very dangerous threats.
The insanity of it.
A hair trigger please stop before were all done for.
Oppression solves nothing.
Silence the lambs.
Sacrifice those lambs.
Please save all the lambs.
Blood is blood and we all bleed the same.
We all die the same.
Death will not change a thing.
We must negotiate for inner peace for those already deceased.
A tribulation to the financial devastation we brought upon our self.
Can you now see we must cut and soder it off before it destroy us all.
Its not about separation but self preservation.
So the next one that says we should be spending.
Oh yours so wrong.
The moneys already gone.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Church Street Bomb blast
Forgive
forgive them
who set the bomb
slaughtering nineteen people
wounding and maiming two hundred more
who sit in parliament with blood on their hands
being responsible in ordering numerous killings,
not being held responsible or caring about it now,
killing innocent civilian children, women and men
whose blood, body parts, guts and broken bodies I saw
and now the elements have washed away what was left of some
and yet I will not forget this madness and cruelty, which made man loose all humanity.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Come Back Clean
This is the song for a soldier
To sing as he rides from home
To the fields afar where the battles are
Or over the ocean's foam:
'Whatever the dangers waiting
In the lands I have not seen,
If I do not fall-if I come back at all,
Then I will come back clean.
'I may lie in the mud of the trenches,
I may reek with blood and mire,
But I will control, by the God in my soul,
The might of my man's desire.
I will fight my foe in the open,
But my sword shall be sharp and keen
For the foe within who would lure me to sin,
And I will come back clean.
'I may not leave for my children
Brave medals that I have worn,
But the blood in my veins shall leave no stains
On bride or on babes unborn;
And the scars that my body may carry
Shall not be from deeds obscene,
For my will shall say to the beast,
Obey
!
And I will come back clean.
'Oh, not on the fields of slaughter
And not in the prison-cell,
Or in hunger and cold is the story told
By war, of its darkest hell.
But the old, old sin of the senses
Can tell what that word may mean
To the soldiers' wives and to innocent lives,
And I will come back clean.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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