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Poems On / About MURDER  10/1/2014 7:13:40 AM
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December 24th Eve

This tiredness,
A draining away,
Such as a tide might
Suck at a bay.

There is evil in their soul
A blackness where nothing,
only wither, can grow.

Murder is murder
A thug on a street
A soldier with a gun
A President's decree,
And dead is dead.

Are we made in the image of God?
God's flood drowned all
A pillar of fire destroyed all
An image of a murder

Has not God created sin?
All sin?

Why does the Sheperd leave the flock to
Seek the lost one? Maybe because once the
Sheperd was lost and someone came and found
Him and welcomed him back home again.
Midnights Voice

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Save Me

God is looking,
don't do sin,
don't murder me,
don't kill me
for dowry,
please! please!
hey god!
till when girls will suffer,
when in-laws will stop doing murder,
when-when the day will come?
When girls will get chance to fly,
when girls will get chance to touch sky,
same as these birds and these flies?
Don't kill me,
don't beck me for dowry!
Don't murder me..! !
save me- save me! ! !
Tanveer Sharma

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Out of these ugly weapons of mass murders, There come splinters that are blind, but They hit everyone and everything, Their targets are only innocent lives, Mosques, buildings, hospitals, ambulances, and everything Simply because they chose to destroy everyone and everything, Inhuman hearts made of stainless steel just to kill and To murder systematically human beings, Massacres and genocides are their jobs To please the inferiority complex they have, Their splinters fly in all directions Just to kill innocent souls, What are the kinds of these creatures? ! New massacres are shown clearly for testing banned weaponry, Where is that freedom they have? My words are incapable of describing these mass murders and These ugly genocides, so I would like to keep silent Until the whole world apologizes to these 21st century massacres!

Read more poems from MOHAMMAD SKATI >>>



Writing Rebels

My writing on the wall results in murder,
Murder on the horizon shuns me,
This deed is done for the prison,
Opening the faces as they murder.
These walls ask of you a lesson of kindness,
Kind men shock our helping hands.
The idols are shattered in minutes,
Offerings begin to stage rebellion,
The altar was to offer its sacrifice of blood
And flesh. I have known the reality
Onto the realities, kicking the beggars
In their fortune and in their blood.
My writing is of the graphic writers
Who wait with increased gravity.
Naveed Akram

Read more poems from Naveed Akram >>>
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Poems On / About MURDER