Downtrodden - A Creation Of Frustration . . . .

Tell me my dear,

what should I do ? ? ?

Do you think I should,

hit you, thrash you,

crush you, or curse you ? ? ?

just tell me,

what should I do to you ? ? ?

You did all,

what you should not do,

to me, to my heart.

You took away from me,

everything you want.

And left for me nothing,

nothing at all.

you gave me things,

you don't need,

misery, pain and all.

A robber, a thief,

thats what you are.

But you gave me something,

something I had lost,

something I needed,

something I had urge for,

you gave me the rage,

the disasterous anger.

That gave me power,

power to fight you back.

so, I am coming,

to take back my things,

and to give you back,

whatever you gave me.

dipressed, distressed and disgraced,

today I am enraged,

burning hot in fury,

running wild in wrath.

ready to burn you alive,

or just stick a knife,

in you, in your heart.

Grind you or tear you apart,

tell me, just let me know,

a reason, why should I leave you alive ? ? ?

For using me more ? ? ?

Or pissing me off ? ? ?

Tell me what to do to you,

grind you, smash you,

bury you or burn you ? ? ?

or just let you,

to stab me on my back,

or should I go,

climb to a height,

and fall back from there,

and give up blood,

free up my soul,

and end up everything.

Just let me know . . . .

Beachly Beauty . . . .

I stand beneath the sky,

my hands open wide,

seeing the gulls flying high,

the beautiful nature by my side.

The salty waves of the sea,

wash away my mortal feet,

algea and moss, down I see,

wet but warm by the solar heat.

Far away from the town,

from those noisy streets,

I sit on the natures crown,

where serenity and peace meets.

stones and stars on the beach sand,

decors my footprints left behind,

I pick them up by my naked hand,

saving those moments in my urban mind.

I see that undernurtured nature,

tortured and pained, for a long time,

to preserve this beauty in literature,

Today I write this rhyme . . . .

Justice Justified . . . .

For a justice to be justified,

your thoughts have to be simplified.

To make a choice between two obligations,

truth and lies like dancing animations.

When your thoughts fight a lot,

to choose the good or to choose not.

Then pack up your complex mind,

and let your heart then find,

the truth in the truth,

the lie in the raising youth.

Only then you can do the justice,

when the truth you don't miss.

raise your voice and stand for good,

do everything, which you could.

Then the justice will be justified,

you complex mind now, Simplified . . . .

Just Like That . . . .

I want to live,

I want to die,

I want to reach above the sky.

Above the earth,

I want to fly,

Though impossible, I want to try.

I want to jump,

I want to roll,

I want to seperate my body from my soul.

I want to crawl,

I want to run,

I want to shine brighter than sun.

I want to love,

I want to hate,

I want to win and defeat my fate.

I want to die,

and take rebirth,

as a illusion on a seperate earth.

I want pleasure,

I want pain,

I want to run madly in rain.

I want to smile,

I want to frown,

take my bike and hit the town.

I want to stare,

I want to blink,

I want to mind, nothing to think.

I want to scream,

I want to shout,

on a lonely road I want to roam about.

I want to take,

I want to give,

a cheerfull life I want to live.

I want to laugh,

I want to cry,

this poem will make your mind fry.

I had less,

but plenty of time,

So, just like that, I wrote this rhyme . . . .

Devil May Cry . . . .

Deep inside the dark,

behind the ominous dog's bark,

the lonely devil cries,

after telling numerous lies,

his string heart feels weak.

he now wants to be meek,

coz the world now is more evil,

bigger and stronger than that devil.

lonely and currupted he now feels,

with burning emotions thah never heels.

depressed, distressed and demotioned,

he stands alone mistically stunned.

The cries from his pained heart,

is tearing the silence apart.

love is what he now needs,

to heal his heart which now bleeds.

tears from his helpless eyes,

shows us that a devil too cries . . . .