Fury Unleashed

Fight Style

Swerving to the side

A footwork with no match

A blade like lightning

A style in no comparison

A warrior with a dour face

In repitition with his actions

Another deluted experience

Just one more life cut short

Blood staining his coat

This being his only concern

An unkempt appearance

is simply a sign of rudeness

A black savior

Burning with false intentions

Of greed and self claimed power

A tyrant of sorts

Vigilante sports of death

A fun little game to one with such skill

Fencing his way through the enemy

Calling it a test of honor

The lives taken reach a higher count

But you must not blame the boy

He's just making an innocent mistake

A pretty face he has to hide what he knows

And when you rain funds upon the ones

Who intend to imprison you

Perhaps that means your set for life?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It sucks?

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Life Upon Your Stage

Put on your sparkly costume,

And start you jaded play.

But I knew your famous show,

BEFORE the opening day!

Underneath gallons of make-up,

And your faulty little lies,

Lives the person you ONCE WERE,

Before the massive disguise.

You try to run it past me,

And I don’t know why you think,

By showing me a DEFINATE red,

That I will call it pink!

I guess it all depends,

On your perceptions of the shade,

The color hue and lighting,

Plus the ATTITUDE displayed.

Now, if you’ll please excuse me,

For my straight, forward form.

I’ll smile and let you continue,

The act you proudly perform.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My friend suddenly thinks that she is "better than thou" and is acting not like herself all for some stupid people. She is, quite frankly, getting on my nerves.

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A hollow man threatens

his wife, "I'll never give you

that'll set you right."

The purpose of he being a man

is forever lost never to return.


Should engage in

doing such a thing;

calculating again and again


Much money he

has spent

for her

not taking

into account

his personal

pleasure shop visits;

in spite of having

an intelligent woman

at home.

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Atrocity on Flowers


Start very clean,

Thick and thin- Wreak Havoc!

Beautiful scene need to win. Honestly

It is not a sin.


The cynics, forever complain

If not this, it is something else. Where

Are the perfumes from the flowers gone?

Looking beautiful, attractive in form-

Thanks to the research and development

Microbiology and gene manipulation-

They are prettier, nor for or against

There should be -- a space to rest.

Floral world fauna flatter fawn.

Disappointment- Business reign

Man and gain- Horticulture,

Exhibition- Society women

Special creations-

Coquette dainties



Perfumeries- Each

Beauty a performance-

Smelling like a flower

Artificial scents- Spring,

Frog-prince, out of well-

Market place buy sell

Dual purpose- Passing

Flower shop; eyeing colourful;

Gone are the days gone with the wind.

Whiff in the air sniff could not. Done away

Essence natural fragrance, floral life a longer sustenance-

No smell in flowers mere mute objects- Magnificent redolence,

Memory lanes- Nostalgic search all in vain- We in hurts and our pains;

Iota of guilt? Lackadaisical response- Fleshy petal rest, only reminiscent-

Monster profits, lax human the precious plunder. Convenient preservation it is!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Those days the flower shops were a wonder emanating fragrance but these days one can only get stinks.

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The Bad Thoughts

Every night you still call me up crying

To say you're sick of trying

That you're worthless and useless

You might as well die

You keep begging and pleading

Asking me why

Why you and not somebody else

You're feeling alone, like you're all by yourself

Don't tell me you got all kinds of problems

And you need me to solve them

You know you're hopeless and helpless

You need me again

You keep trying and failing

You'll never win

Why try, you won't get anywhere

Just stop complaining please, I don't really care

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Hoax Lie Hurt


Hoax lay on the wall flat

Straight face feed words, lies

Thunder strike at honest attempt

Name the same, “Peace gab”

Mischief-makers garb of envy

Reflect atavism, lengthy.

Will, never learn to be healthy

in thought words and mind.

No this is no civilisation


But racketeers

Selling and

Dealings in weapons

Living unholy life

Attempting on the mind

Having failed to capture

The bodies -- tender and mild;

Inflict psycho torture

Damage the humane.

Disaster --


Surely not the moment

there is no stop to this

Pretension of being

A perfect gentle man!

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Ugly Trade Unions Use Insults

Games We Play

When Trade Unions forget their own duties

intelligent advice with insulting crude words,


"Sorry Gentlemen that you stoop so low"

Do these guys know what they speak?

Do the guys know what they relay?

They are the false leaders without respect


The whole work force, boycott such characters.

So that they may have enough time,

occupy, take the front seats in Shakespeare's Theatre.

Shakespeare too did write for them

they could have fun in their front rows.

Tickled out of breath

Have no left for derogatory words

against their country's

Respectable leader; leading through hard times.

Nincompoops aught to feel ashamed


before becoming the laughing stock for the rest of the world

Unable to stop the wagging tongues.

Let the mind control words or stagnate in self-made cesspool, "Hass"

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I am rich, you son of a bitch

Want to rob my wealth

and pretend to see my well


I do not need such Good Samaritan

Wolf in sheep’s disguise.


Get yourself drowned.


Dishonest, your grin

cannot win a hurt soul.

Remembering the past



it’s no use now.

There can be no come back no matter how

On the other hand, what tune you sing.

Somehow, it’s the same


I know, it’s not my well-being but your greed.

I am untouchable. Keep your distance is the warning.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

To those who feign concern.

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Dedicated to:

My beloved Christopher

Fuck You

You know I hate you

So much I'm trembling

Can barely keep my hand upright

My eye is twitching

You sit beside me

In silence

But my mind

Is wild with noise

Of splintering wood

And shrieks and screams

I want to tear your flesh

You little fuck you

Perhaps you taste better than you act

Warm blood spilling over my chest

Hands gripping knives

Thrusting through your flesh

Blood splattering my walls

Like some pretty decoration

I made all by myself

With you help, your blood at least

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