Miranda Oney

Crying comes naturally in this house,
no tears of joy, but of hate and fear.
Screaming engulfs these walls.
Pain from the physical attacks,
...

Taken away is innocence,
never to return.
Loving heart still intact,
but shame and horror set in.
...

Hungry, so hungry.
Been a while now.
Mommy's so lonely,
don't speak of how.
...

Feel the magic all around,
Leaves floating in the air.
See the Sprites scamper across the ground
without a worry or a care.
...

So sorry am I, my dear friend.
I fear I led you astray.
This really shouldn't be the end.
It's hard for me to convey.
...

Numbers rumble through my head,
equations must be remembered.
Tests are something students dread,
can't wait til December.
...

'Repent Heathen! ' is what They cry,
carrying Their torches.
No one even wonders why,
They just watch from Their porches.
...

Can you hear the screaming?
The tortured helpless cries
among the Holy Mountains that rise?
Or am I just dreaming?
...

Lovers quarrel, they fight, they cry.
Pain so intense that words are useless.
Emotions emitted as beastly sounds,
no thoughts, no language, just feelings.
...

Darkness, quiet, all around.
Nothing here, up or down.
Slowly, genlty, push on through.
Drink up to the health of you.
...

A beautiful rose, sitting somber still,
over the heart of the beloved.
Such a sight sends up a chill,
seeing Love on that bed.
...

Bring peace of mind, dear friend,
to this place of silence.
We shall finally bring an end
to all the pain and violence.
...

White brilliance fills my vision,
yet I can still see you.
All is deathly quiet,
yet I can still hear you.
...

Torture. The language every person can speak.
Subtle or Flamboyant. To each His own.
Either able to make grown men squeak,
able to tear flesh, organ, and bone.
...

You aren't the strongest of them all,
Nor the most athletic.
There are those that may call
you weak and pathetic.
...

Smile sweet soul
for thou art free.
Finally whole,
No more to see.
...

Sunlight rays through the shield,
staring out into the field.
Listen not to futures call,
freedom rights seem so small.
...

Writings come not from my mind,
search not for ye will not find.
Music beats play through my head,
think too hard and they're all dead.
...

Dark and deep, into the soul
one can reap, part of the whole
cautious and quiet, social fear
can cause a riot, madman leer
...

Bombs falling, people die,
no stalling, children cry,
sad faces, mourning wives,
empty places, hidden knives,
...