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Literature Text
Open your eyes my child,
we're on the way home.
We may not win the battle,
but you wont go down alone.
Your mother wont be forgotten,
she was taken way too soon...
But,revenge is never the answer,
a calm mind will help us bloom
We ran away from death,
and feel guilty from the fright!
But we will return for our family!
We'd rather die with a fight!
Come to arms my brothers!
Nomads, we are not.
Think about our precious lands,
or maybe you all forgot...
Well, whoever will stand with me,
clear the anger from your heart.
Blindness from rage is fatal ,
and we'd be doomed from the start.
So open your eyes my people!
We are on the way home.
We may not win this battle,
but we wont go down alone!
we're on the way home.
We may not win the battle,
but you wont go down alone.
Your mother wont be forgotten,
she was taken way too soon...
But,revenge is never the answer,
a calm mind will help us bloom
We ran away from death,
and feel guilty from the fright!
But we will return for our family!
We'd rather die with a fight!
Come to arms my brothers!
Nomads, we are not.
Think about our precious lands,
or maybe you all forgot...
Well, whoever will stand with me,
clear the anger from your heart.
Blindness from rage is fatal ,
and we'd be doomed from the start.
So open your eyes my people!
We are on the way home.
We may not win this battle,
but we wont go down alone!
Literature
Masquerade
Masks
I wear so many they're all so heavy
They hurt my back and strain my neck
But matters not any pain I feel
Layer them on, more masks to wear
I don't care
I dance through the grey ballroom
Across this ugly stage of living and life
I look so beautiful to all my onlookers
My masks are all they see tonight
But that's alright
For one I met, I tried to show, one dancer I felt was equal to me
Together we danced the salsa and a brief tango
And in some moment of passion, I lost my mind
I started shedding masks along the floor
Like a fool
This masquerade has gone on too long
Eighteen years of dancing to boring songs
I can see thro
Literature
Come Back
Will you come back?
I wish you'd return.
But your hatred,
I always seem to spurn.
That's why I did it.
I made things this way.
You know that I had to.
What else can I say?
I really do miss you.
It's so lonely here,
But your wrath,
I really do fear.
Is there a balance.
Maybe I'll ask.
Finding the sweet spot,
Will be quite a task.
If we can be happy,
Just me and you.
There isn't anything,
I wouldn't do.
Literature
I Am Not Dead !!!
You!
Who are you!
Who are you to call me dead.
I am the author.
I am the poet.
These words you read are mine
and mine alone.
On this work
is all rights reserved.
Who.
Who are you
Who are you to say the author is dead.
With each word i breathe.
The rhythm is my pulse.
The poem is my soul's cry from within me
Contained in this written form.
My poetry is evidence of my life.
I am not dead but alive forevermore.
Who are you to call me dead?
Who are you to disregard my intentions
my opinions, my life
in favor of your own ideas.
To disregard me is to disregard my poetry.
Each poem is a piece of me,
whether i distance myself or not.
I
I am sti
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Well, this is a poem about people driven from their homes in a violent invasion of village, and one man tries to convince those who ran to safety to go back and fight. I hope you enjoy this.
Comments44
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i really love poems with rhyme and a flow with some sort of a beat.. like a song.. this is really my style... and i had a poem that goes like this... battle cries and heroes... maybe its a coincidence, it's in my gallery, Our Battlecry, Emblazoned In The Sky...