Can we live without death,
Can we love without hate,
Can we want without need,
Born to just die ...
If hate is whats inside me,
Then hate is what defines me,
I will use my hate to drive me,
Let death not deprive me ...
Do I want this or do I need this,
Feeding off poor souls,
Pale pigments caused by my presence,
Forgiveness is earned not given ...
Climbing up a ladder in an upside down world,
Looking in the eyes of darkness,
I stand in front of a mirror,
Ashamed of nothing ...
What comes out from within can cause suicide,
Armageddon in the form of humanity,
A world without chaos is a world that's non-existent ...
Asking for forgiveness to be hypercritical,
" Há dias em que nos apetece chorar para limpar o que dentro de nós ficou sujo. O que os sentimentos corroeram...
Há dias em que chorar faz mais que bem, para nos revitalizar a alma e reconstruí-la com o que há de melhor na vida: os pingos de felicidade.
Pingos de felicidade que nascem das coisas mais simples, daquelas que acontecem sem pedir licença e que nos deixam sequelas nos lábios - os sorrisos gigantes que fazem a vida valer a pena!
Há dias em que nos apetece chorar para que os sorrisos nos saiam mais límpidos.
Estes dias são raros, mas existem. Nem sempre nos apetece chorar, principalmente este chorar de limpa-limpa-que-neste-momento-és-tão-feliz!!!
Nestes dias choramos para, depois, ...
PHOTO CHALLENGE #2
With this hand stretched out like a beggar
Countless are the faces that lick me
From a past full of monsters mastering me
Just how many of them have I shaken
Since I was a girl crawling across dirty hearts
With this hand stretched out like a beggar,
I reach for a dollar or two
Only to find the tight, powerful grip
Of a king from upon his slave throne
The planet is cursed with black selfish hearts
Enjoying the flavor of poor voiceless cries
Pile up those 'men of class' before me,
And watch.... as I put the car into drive.
Of my both palms together
Whatever conscience allows
Let it fall upon
Pleasure is mine.
*Begging for Change*
We are intertwined in a divine constant. Reaching out from beyond creation, craving the taste of sweetness on the breath of man. Starving. Gaunt on the crumbs of mercy and tolerance.
By and by, we collide in fractured axioms, filtered by suited knaves, scooping piles of poison into the mouths of the masses. They feed; little babies, not knowing the teat they suckle upon only serves to sever us from virtue. This is not the sight that forms the frame of humanity.
We bleed the bonds that silently suffer in neglect. I am not merely one of few that see! Am I? No, we are many, hidden in frustration. Igniting the night in reverent rage!
Oh, but how these eyes, langui...
Although there is nothing in both of my hands
I still stretch them out to you in the hopes that you'll understand
And maybe you'll take my hands in yours
And then, maybe then, I'll cry till I'm hoarse
I want to cry, but there are no shoulders welcoming my tears
So, I spend my time crying inside and that might take away my years
But I have no shoulder to cry on, so when I stretch my hands out to you, you'll know why
I need a shoulder to cry on, and this will help me cry