Bleeding Poems - Poems about Bleeding

God dispatches two angels for each missile sent in war to recover the souls of those perished He then lets nature clean up the blood with insects and bacteria so the war-torn scenario is blessed It’s too common a sight men, women and children dying in war zones Heavens gates are swayed open with a constant line of new souls carried by the angels When...

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who's got a tourniquet? the world bleeds out of her limb. she's anemic. the ship of world peace has sailed; existential chaos reigns supreme. recourse to arms now the go-to solution for nations at loggerheads. bellicose, sanguinary; they're way past handshakes. who's got a tourniquet? ...

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The world is bleeding We stand at the edge of a precipice, Looking in fear on our Earth, Boiling, bubbling, and steaming, With pools of blood flowing. Warplanes blanket the sky. Volcanic sounds pierce the ear. Booms of gun shots rent the air Lightning passes blinding the eye The skies let down a deluge of tears The old world is strangled to death Toxic waste muddles...

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The world is bleeding, Yet it seems no one seems to care. Oh it’s been going on for quite, sometime it gets so people seem to walk on by shake their heads and stare. Centuries, years, months even days, have brought us all to the state we are in. With all the paths to lead us to...

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Checked by www.howmanysyllables.com>syllable_counter ************************************************************** The World is Bleeding ...

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The world is bleeding, each must agree : Chaotic commotion ! Indeed. Seems ‘Morality’ to bury : Humanity is killed by greed. All around running corruption - The world is bleeding, each must agree. ...

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It's said, "The world will bleed away." It bleeds and bleeds—one pint a day. A blood as bland as monochrome, as voices in an echo-dome. The drooling masses lap it up. And lick the anchor's shiny cup. With honeyed words that tickle ears. Or doomsday chants, neurotic fears. One pint a spew of ink on page; the next a clip to...

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The world is bleeding, from the inside out, with a punctured heart ready to burst. Call Universal O- blood donors. They may be able to save the most first. A rain of tears cleanses streets from the red- stained, dripping sheet-shrouds oozing children's blood. While flesh is shredded from human bone by- natural forces of wind, earth, and flood. The world lies,...

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The lifeless bullets bound as captive predator in the restive barrels of the cold guns of war, chilling cold as the brutal shadow of death, waiting camouflaged in the dark, wake up at the strike of the trigger, pulled by the frenetic fingers of entranced men. In God’s own world so humane once blood flows thick as incensed streams, bullets rip...

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"la monde saigne is French but in any language the world is bleeding" ...

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What's happened to world serenity? It been trampled on and has run amuck, burned and wounded, ravaged by hate while people look on as though they're dumbstruck. The world has lost its identity and obscenities roll off angry tongues like machine gun fire from those filled with angst, trepidation and ire. Humanity is held in the choke hold grasp of hands...

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THE WORLD IS BLEEDING I suspect no tourniquet will help it now With the jugular of the world being cut And a loss of blood as our time will allow It needs rapid surgery, and nothing but We are way beyond taking our final bow The door to recovery is now slammed shut As a scared cow at the slaughterhouse, it seems Is...

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The world is bleeding; anyone can see. Red with blood it is indeed. Oh, when from pain will we all be free? A sickness infects the bourgeoisie while we suffer from callous leaders’ greed. The world is bleeding; anyone can see. You can’t disguise wealth’s stench with sweet potpourri when slaves to poverty are mired in their need. Oh, when from pain will...

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The world is bleeding badly as we know This haemorrhage started many years ago. A band aid will not fix its gaping wound So, to be frank I fear we may be doomed. This bleeding seems to seep across earth’s land From many causes we can’t understand. And now this wound is such a festered sore If not stopped soon, we’ll...

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In Ankara and Moscow, the ground is crimson red ~ a carpet spread on fields once green. Life’s fluid, like red gold, flows as scarlet runoffs into Ottoman rivers – lifestreams of Rossiyane and Turks spilled from their inner oceans. Their bones ~ lifeless as strings of dead fish, litter seas once full of life. The tears of fatherless children fill the Black Sea, their futures...

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