When they torture your mother
plant a tree
When they torture your father
plant a tree
When they torture your brother
and your sister
plant a tree
When they assassinate
My melancholy was gold dust in your hands;
On your long hands I scattered my life;
My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands;
Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied
How much sweet torture quietly suffered,
When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness,
She who knows the tricks, I passed the days
kissing the two hands that stifled my life
On Torture: A Public Singer
Torture will give a dozen pence or more
To keep a drab from bawling at his door.
The public taste is quite a different thing-
Torture is positively paid to sing.
No Rack Can Torture Me
No Rack can torture me—
My Soul—at Liberty—
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One—
You cannot prick with saw—
Nor pierce with Scimitar—
Two Bodies—therefore be—
The Torture Of Cuauhtemoc
Their strength had fed on this when Death's white arms
Came sleeved in vapors and miasmal dew,
Curling across the jungle's ferny floor,
Becking each fevered brain. On bleak divides,
Where Sleep grew niggardly for nipping cold
That twinged blue lips into a mouthed curse,
Not back to Seville and its sunny plains
Winged their brief-biding dreams, but once again,
Lords of a palace in Tenochtitlan,
They guarded Montezuma's treasure-hoard.
Torture In India
Torture In India
March 1, 2020
Tears roll down from many of eyes
Hearing there a Muslim deadly cries,
The attacked cries from acute pains
As bleeding from some of the veins,
Fleshes have been torn out of body
To die such death
So damn painful
Eyes so blinded
Mouth so damn scorched
Nose so frozen
Touch so damn lost
And heart...torn out
I am subjected to mental torture
It blackens chances for the future
I loose concentration and behave abnormal
The show remains pathetic and dismal
Nothing remains on my mind
I am unable to find
What is wrong with me?
Why am I not free?
Torture Me Gently
torture me gently
through this night
waking in a sweat again
only to find
it was only a dream
only a dream
Wednesday, February 5,2020
9: 32 AM
She had something else
and remained tense
not for our happy union
but for her new find and companion
Why Do Ye Torture Me?
Why are ye torturing me, O desires of my heart?
Torturing me and paining me by day and by night?
Hunting me as a poor deer would be hunted on a hill,
A poor long-wearied deer with the hound-pack after him
There's no ease to my paining in the loneliness of the hills,
But the cry of the hunters terrifically to be heard,
The cry of my desires haunting me without respite,—
O ravening hounds, long is your run!
No satisfying can come to my desires while I live,
For the satisfaction I desired yesterday is no satisfaction,
Never Ending Torture
Why? Oh why do this
Have I angered you in some way?
Beautiful sounds you drown in your nasty wish
Hard work destroyed in your 'Crinkle, Crackle, Boom'bay.
Every morning I start of my day
A beautiful sunrise interpreted in sound,
Destroyed in your deceitful ' Crinkle, Crackle, Boom' bay
More and more hate you gain from me, by now a mound.
Torture Me No More
Near my longing heart she lives,
I can't be safe ere love she gives,
When I want to be closely near her,
When I advance in both her love and care,
And when the stars watch us here and there,
And when the moon hugs us both me and her,
Then, she, in my sleep, becomes a nightmare,
That would bring misery, pain and despair,
Honey, restore love to me and thee,
For only your love that can really be,
Everyday Is Torture Without You
everyday we see
everyday we meet
everyday im nothing
without the sight of you
or your beautiful blue eyes
and your heartwarming touch
I sit every day in these chains
Waiting for the day I can escape
The misery and torture I endure
Every day I wish to die
As the blades pierce my flesh
I can feel the blood trickle
It starts to go numb
One day I will wake from this torture
One day I will be free
*rape Not! Torture Not! ! Kill Not!
My dear child of five
Sure you don’t deserve
A rape, a torture
Nor a kill - failure
Of the society.
A mind so filthy!
My dear Mother Earth
Millions you’re worth
Deserve not torture
Loss for bright future!
I sit at the edge of this lake,
looking out into the calm water,
separating alternate dimensions.
As calmness surrounds me,
yet turmoil spins in my mind,
as being poked by needles.
My thoughts hurt with each upcoming,
burning holes through my skull,
Welcome to my torture room,
my painful den of sorrows.
Although today you are alive,
I can promise no tomorrow.
It's here I learned to terrorize,
in ways most men don't think.
It's here where victims salt from tears,
spice my bloody drink.
Where hearts and eyes lie side by side,
beside my side by side,
Possible Future Torture
The Nutcracker has not arrived yet,
ordered Mikhail Baryshnikov on DVD
on October the tenth - still have not
received it for succour and support
in these terrible times
Now know I got ‘commencé' right in
our French test, vindicates my theory
beginning is good while endings are
bad, beginning to chase my ideal of
Hitler's Torture Game
Back in the year of 1939
Adults and children were formed in a line
To slowly be killed
By those who were thrilled
Because they thought they were right
They would go out and put up a fight
To those unique in their seperate way
Hilter would torture them everyday