How much one can take

Due to the graphic nature of this piece
The owner has withdrawn

autumn_018 said:Due to the graphic nature of this piece
The owner has withdrawn

we can put an extreme filter on the thread if you want to enter your piece, V.

Premature Life

A day awaited with glee
Came early and unexpectedly
Fear now replaces joy
As he is no bigger than a toy

Through glass you now see
Your frail and fragile baby
Holding on to life's thread
In that solitary bed

His life you now fear
To be taken before you hear
A cry, a laugh, or giggle
Or see his toes wiggle

Veins visible through skin
It is only paper thin
Such small hands and feet
Accompanied with a weak heartbeat

A nursery you did prepare
Now awaits in despair
In hopes of one day
He'll come home to play

Often I wonder why is it I'm here
To be born, graduate, and land a career?
Then let loose in this fucked up place
Just to run around with a nothing face

We are suppose to be a part of a machine
There is heaven and hell; then we are between
It's all sounds good in a balanced plan
Wouldnt you like to know when it all began

Do you believe in Adam and Eve?
Now these days it's Adam and Steve
Or perhaps you believe in the big bang theory:
To be born from an atomic mass, I'm awful weary

Nothing has ever been born by a explosion
This only causes death, decay, and land erosion
A baby to be born with out planting a seed
This is a true belief of faith indeed

Why is it we kill over land that is not ours
For the government to act like Antichrist superstars
We fight over alot of subjects that make no sense
Like stopping freedom of the ones that cross a fence

Who are we to say who can live here or there
It's just another form of psychological warfare
People die everyday because they live on our street
We just pass them by and wipe our feet

I know I am only one person of many millions
Alot of us were soilders and the rest being civilians
We have all seen the impact of what we can do
To grab our guns and kill people that we never knew

I am not blind of terristic groups
For we all have lost many of our troops
When will this greed ever end
The "new world order" they think it will mend

If your interested and your going along
Go to forbiddenknowledge.com
You have to be patient for it's far from short
In 1964 a plan was made"The Iron Mountain Report"

They called it a hoax a great big joke
Then why all the red tape and all of the smoke
Even the existence of the office of the 303
This is the engine for everything the president can't be

I am far from a conspiracy theorist
I just read a book that don't  intrest most
We all live together in the same place
But to those who push the button... I'm still a nothing face

You look pretty digging your grave:

A beautiful dress; makeup on her face;
A necklace of pearls; everything in place
Her hair as perfect as a snowflake
As she digs beside the lake
 
You look so pretty digging your grave
Working for hours as you slave
What had pushed her this far?
What kind of punishment has left this scar?
 
Not crying not even a care
Hands not gloved; bleeding as bare
Laughing at her task she goes
What made her this way... She only knows
 
You look so pretty digging your grave
I guess a broken heart; all the love she gave
She still continues; scoop after scoop
For she is not right; her head thrown into a loop
 
Now she stairs gazing at the moon
Looking down at this hole: is their enough room?
She places the shovel to see how deep
This her resting place; her finale sleep
 
You look so pretty digging your grave
To end all this pain; you only crave
To finally be free; no pain at last
It's coming closer, it arrives so fast
 
You get word of what she's doing
Not time to spare; gotta get going
You drive like a mad man there
For her life; you somewhat care
 
You look so pretty digging your grave
Now it's only him; her life to save
He arrives; his brakes a screech
Only a few steps; she will be in reach
 
He yells as he runs to her
He will stop her; he's for sure
She hits him with the shovel: pushing him in
Now is her new life; her freedom can begin
 
You look so pretty filling his grave
For all of his abuse in which he gave
No more crying, no more fear
Only from her heart a warming cheer

Grandpa's solider-

That girl in that house
with that day-by-day mind,
saw little in faith,
but in what she could find.

And that man in that car,
that looked about eighty,
took pride in this child,
and chat that was weighty.

He saw through the ballet,
and the brick to the head,
the leukaemia, and nursing,
and poisoning by lead.

She saw through the glasses,
and liver spotted heart,
the feebler moments,
the steps at the start.

They likened with kisses,
and chicken soup dumpling,
after tickle-monster visits
and games so humbling.

It spoke,
with a vengeance,
and a tinge
that was sour,
to in seconds
dissipate,
eliminate,
cower.

"Hello" in an instant-
she knew what was coming,
those eyes that were parched,
and nose that was running.

She saw the ground strike
the greatest man she knew,
rubbed the salt from her skin,
as she lives, now for two.

There was something special about you and me
You had always been there for me
You had let me cry on your shoulder when my grandfather died
You were my best friend
And i loved you.
I woke up
it was a day like any other
except for one difference... i had 12 missed calls on my phone
i panicked when i found out they were from you
I knew you had a tendency to go for long walks
i know you had an addiction to those drugs
but i never thought that it cause me to lose you..
oh how i cried
how dead i felt inside
and it was all because you were no longer here
with me in your arms
i miss you
i pray that you are in a better place
but even though its been three years..
not one day goes by when i do not think of you and cry..

A Goddess tale

Celebrated for her elegance
Worshipped as tho' Juventas
but clueless were her adorers
her life she lament
alive with expectation

There were nights her demon rise
When she does her habitual mirror check
And pride possesses the fluorescent light
the cruel piercing rays daggers on her guise
revealing the collasping masquerade
the wretched lines, languishing veneer
youth bleeding from the silent wound of time

Sculpture of a Goddess, she lays cold and still
Enclosed in this glossy pink coated pine box
with a looking glass for her adorers' eye
like a photoframe, close-up portray of her face
Classic sleeping beauty, her resting eyes, dreamy smile
Hair parted to the right...
to shelter the wound of yester night

[b][b]Just how much mo[/b]re
[/b]
Upon the altar
When we said I do
I trusted you
To be with me
For better or for worse
For richer or poorer
It was better
When you did not lose your temper
When you did not beat me
When you did not throw
the cutleries at me
It was worse when you did
It was richer
When you did not drink
When you did not womanise
When you did not gamble
When you did not get sacked
It was poorer when you did
How much more
Can I suffer
For the sake
Of that vow
We made before
we became worse
And poorer.