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Gideon Mar 8
knowing you are gone
is a blessing from above

because my wide eyes
are not unlike the others

they shimmer with hope
and naivete like a dove

but that hope, your evil
heart only smothers
Evil people hide in familiar shades,
They morph their wicked skin,
To look the likes of us,
And not their monstrous kin.

They write like a human,
Speaking in themes we recognize as light,
To the point no one knows how they lie,
So who knows how many walk among us.
Nothing as disgusting as when you begin to trust one, just for them to rear their fangs and reveal their true form.
They tell one lie,
They speak one truth.
'It's easy to heal,
But you'll remember all your scars.'

The latter of the two, a truth.
Though that which precedes,
Lies through it's teeth.
Fangs of darkness and deceit,
Designed to forge a man with a black heart.
If not for the comfort of the summer sea,
I too would've succumbed to the gray of this city.
Morphed from a young and happy form,
To a soulless monster,
'****-Malum.'
****-Malum=Evil Man
Religion was genius,
A system built on brotherhood and loyalty.
Worship was a good idea,
But it was bad to put it in the hands on man.
The broken emotions of mortal ideals,
Took a good thing and destroyed it.
Religious war is the most ****** and disturbing battle of all time.
Ylzm Mar 3
Trees silent and still its sufferings strange
But happening below unseen who knows
From electrons to cells to worms and moles
Its cries heard in the depths of earth
Its agonies pain the highest heavens
All life reached and touched and soothed
Its griefs mutually shared and resounded
And heavens weepingly reassure in every tear
That evil judged and nothing's futile
Greater yet the glory surpassing the beauty
In every branch, leaf, flower and fruit
K E Cummins Mar 2
Evil is a man in a suit who has no face.
He wears mine, he wears yours -
He keeps them in a book
To select ego-mask disguises.
He is the man who runs the trains.
He is the man who strikes the deal.
Who stares back from the mirror?
External devils are poor scapegoats,
Useful fearmongers for the preacher-kings.
Look within. Delete your disguise.
Evil is a man in a suit who wears your face -
Do not let him control your hands.
Everything ends,
Debt collected by the light that gave it life.
Not everyone lives past the grave,
Often forgotten, memory slipping away.
I know for certain I will fade,
For that is how it must be.
Do away with my name and virtue,
Let only the raw words stay.
Yet still, when I do die,
I want a cannonade on evil,
And stars falling from the sky.
You can only bring one thing with you when it all goes black, and that's your honor.
I've always wanted community,
But it was mostly because I wanted you,
I turned myself inside out,
It had a real evil turn-about,
There's no way to think the same,
After a little trip into your head,
Haunting little thoughts wrapped in rope,
Keeps me far away from bed,
It really seems you alone are the reason,
I stopped stabbing the good guy in my mind,
Just for laughter and clout,
They were never sympathetic for the joker,
Yet, you were, guess that was the first red flag,
You were real pretty,
You are real scarry,
You wanted to fly, wings like a fairy's,
Your promise of safety was a tale,
You told to spin a great big web,
Three days,
I'll never think the same.
If the tie is too tight, get it off your neck.
In a land where the wind blows
Every heart finds a place called home
With the sky so bright
And my dreams coming true tonight
And freedom for
Nael al-Barghouti
Has truly arrived.
Barghouti who was arrested by Israeli police in 1978 at the age of 19

Barghouti, now 67, has been subjected to the worst forms of torture behind bars and suffers from several ailments. He was even denied the right to attend his father’s funeral in 2004 by the Israeli authorities.
Looking over the canyon,
Grand and conniving,
A grim smile across the broken earth.

My voices echoes from it's bounds,
Without the faithful demeanor from which it came.
It calls back to me in the gambit of hatred,
'Shall you let evil rise again, or will you ***** your hand to end it.'
One who is made in the canyon's image may never begone of it's scar.
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