| Deaths Battered Playgournd THE NIGHTMARE CONTINUED To the land of the tortured souls i wonder This place where the brothers death play Moans and screams fill the dreary air The icy wind wraps her chilling fingers around As black and red death take their turn Like kids at play death claims another The unbelieveable pain pain they place people in Its like they enjoy watchin people bleed and suffer Victim's blood flows like rivers to oceans Death swims in it like a school of sharks The taste of tortured souls is like candy in the mouth of kids They can not stop they wont They want to keep tasting Trapped for eternity Time crawls slow for the tortured With no one to stop death They continue to play In they battered playground |
| These are poems that i have written myself |
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Love When i feel your heart beating against mine An overwhelming calm comes over me Your heart speks to me saying Shh dont worry everything will be ok Nothing bad can happen to us. To feel your hand in my hand I no longer feel alone in the world I know that you are always with me Your gentle touch brings life into these hands Soft as rose petals, I hold your tender hand Your words flow to my ears Only to dance in my head Sofly words leave your lips But loudly ur heart sings Not to be ignored by anyone With eyes so inocent you saw ritght through me You saw through the rough exterior to see the the gentleness inside Your love was able to break down those walls Only you could revive my passion and soul Thank you for lifting up my soul and spirt |
| Alone The conflagration in my soul. The ripping of my heart. I watch as they lay to rest yet another of my loved ones. Is this a sign for me not to care for anyone? It seems that everyone I've ever cared about leaves me one way or another. I don't think my heart can take much more of this constant attack. Now I'm scared to ever love anyone or get close to anyone for fear of getting too attached and having my heart broken yet again. So I will spare myself the pain and spen the rest of my days alone. |
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| The Gutter's Rose From the crack in the concrete sprouts a rose in a spot where something so beautiful should not grow. This one thing brings a light to an other wise dark existance. who could have imagine something so beautiful could have been spawn from something so deprived of life. If this rose can come from a gutter such as this, then beauty can survive anywhere. |
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| Pride Pride... a five lettered word that carries with it alot of power that all men seek. Athletes have pride in the traditions of their teams, the milatary hold theirs not only in their traditions but in the fact that they represent and defend their coundtry. Yet the most powerful example of pride is that of a parents pride in thier child. |