There lacks no fear in death,
?No pain in the grave.
?The pen is mightier than the sword,
?I just killed a man.
?
?There lacks no pain in the heart,
?There lacks no tears in the eyes,
?But the pen is mightier than the sword,
?I just killed a man.
?
?The pen bleeds ink, a river of regret,
?As I sign my name to this fatal debt.
?There lacks no pain in the heart,
?No tears in these eyes, that once shone bright.
?
?The pen is mightier than the sword, they say..
?But I've wielded a different kind of blade.
?One that cuts deep, a wound that won't heal.
?A subtle reminder, of the life I've sealed.
?
?The pen is mightier than the sword, they say..
?I have wielded a two-edged blade.
?A life I have sealed.
?The wound may not be healed.
?
?The pen is mightier than the sword,
?I just killed a man.
“The pen is mightier than the sword.”
that’s what someone once assured.
But that’s a fallacy it seems
when wars still haunt men’s hopes and dreams.
Mutually Assured Destruction’s an insane solution
Come now - its positively Luciferian
particularly in the hands of psychopaths
Time to do the impossible maths
Man is wired for endless war
The bluprint written in - 1984.
“Cross my heart and hope to die”
A saying from years past
That has survived for many eons
And will most likely last
But there are so many others
“Barking up the wrong tree”
Choosing a maple instead of an oak
Oblivious to a life carefree
“Two wrongs don't make a right”
In a fatal car accident
When one person is declared dead
Other suffered flatulence
“The pen is mightier than the sword”
Not likey to win an award
Have you ever tried writing a novel
With the tip of a sword
“Two heads are better than one”
Run like hell I'd say
If you see someone with two heads
Freaking weird run away
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder”
Living on Planet Mars
Wonder where the red comes from
Sure is prettier than ours
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
Said the towns' poet, a bit of a bard,
To the Chief of the military,
Challenged him to a duel, gave his shiny card
The card had his house no. and plot
The challenge? A battle to death
To see who will rot,
The Chief sharpened swords, the poet simply read
They got in battle, in the poet's house's battle ground,
The chief raised his mighty big knife,
The people sat waiting for this round,
This was a battle to death and life!
The poet then threw some ink on the chiefs eyes,
Blinded him, stabbed him with the pen, took all his 9 wives
You could give a look to slay
those that choose to disobey.
You could choose sticks and stones
and warn your enemy with crossbones.
You could trick, trip and roll your eyes,
bid the traitor to a duel, say your goodbyes.
Still, when you are not in one accord -
The pen is mightier than the sword.
It draws a line in the sand, with ink,
into the mire of words your enemy will sink,
and not alone, but with his or her treasury of friends
as they view themselves through your vocabulary lens.
Like a volcano, earthquake or cyclonic spout
your nemesis can’t help but hear your shout.
3/22/2023
In a land far, far away,
Where courtrooms were made of clay,
The judge and jury were but mere puppets,
Dancing to the tune of the media's trumpets.
The accused was brought forth to stand,
His fate already sealed by the press's hand,
Guilty before trial, his name besmirched,
His reputation tarnished, his future smirched.
The trial was but a formality,
A charade for the masses to see,
The verdict was predetermined, the outcome set,
Justice was but a thing to forget.
The media, the true judge and jury,
Wielded power, a dangerous fury,
With their words they could make or break,
A man's life, with a single mistake.
So be warned, all those who tread,
In the court of public opinion led,
For the media's pen is mightier than the sword,
And their verdict, the final word.
The Power of Words
Written: by Miracle Man
7/9/2020
We’ve all grown too sensitive, it seems, today.
Everything’s become racist in someone’s view.
We’re too quickly offended by what others say,
so certain hot topics I’ve learned to eschew.
But as words take flight from my tongue or pen,
they always light at someone’s ears or sight.
Whether verbal or printed they can’t return again,
and I often fail to realize their power and might.
It isn’t my intention to voice things that smother,
So I’ll inventory the stash of words I’ve stored.
Spending them not if thought offensive to another,
because “The pen is mightier than the sword”.
“The pen is mightier than the sword”
Then what the hand holding the pen?
That holding the sword?
The truth is with hands
To prove now to hands
Rising up towards God
Both hands
Seeking justice
Thanks,Computers for pens
Hands to handle!
Pen to Paper is Labour to the Mind
Ink scrambled across pages in a form of letters results in knowledge acquisition
Like a dome filled with bodies the mind undergoes infestation
To think a tick to my scribbles can get me a certificate of qualification
My heart spoke, my mind interpreted
I put pen to paper and the whole page was filled with ink
My heart said “She’s beautiful,” My mind said “Beauty defines her”
My heart said “I miss her,” My mind said “I am going breathless without her”
Pen to Paper is Labour to the Mind
What can’t be verbalised, could be voiced in a form of letters
That’s when the mind deciphers what the heart utters
Letters do kill but they have the ability to empower life
Voice has power to crack any item made of emotions
There’s volume in the voice and power in utterance
When Emotion collides with feeling
The heart intervenes in utterance and the mind deciphers
Even with volume in the voice with power in utterance
Pen to paper overpowers volume and the power in utterance
Hence “The Pen is mightier than the sword”
Pen to Paper is Labour to the Mind
... The pen is mightier than the sword ...
The poet knight went off to war
To prove his valor true.
Sir Arthur Berk, the troubadour,
Knew he had much to do
For he had found a greater sword
To strike his foes down dead.
He swore to fight invading horde
And make their ink spill red.
Each lord, farm hand and tavern maid,
Had often heard him tell
The fierceness of his secret blade
And all the foes it fell.
Of dragons and of armies past
He'd read this weapon killed.
The legend of his sword was vast;
The ink would soon be spilled.
Soon rival horde had come again
All took up sword and shield.
The armies prepped for battle then
Were met upon the field.
They yelled and brandished spear and dirk
But soon were silent when
All held their breath to watch Sir Berk
As he unsheathed his ... pen?
He rushed in sure and unconcerned
But fell at the first blow,
And what new truth he might have learned
I guess we'll never know.
But if, perhaps, he'd been more keen
Sir Berk might still yet live;
Too late he learned the difference 'tween
Literal and Figurative.
9.13.18
Contest: Unsheathe Your Sword
It has been said “that the pen is mightier than the sword”. If this be true then I hereby proclaim an end to the savagery of war throughout the world and that all weapons of mass destruction be silenced from this day forward. However, if the saying is but a metonymy and my words are but dust in the wind I would call upon all those who write throughout this world to put pen to paper and create a dust storm of such magnitude that it blinds those that would bear arms of death and destruction for use against their fellow man.
If Pen is mightier than the sword
I am dead man walking
All of these letters, bullets.
They rip through
Skin and crush bone
Words sharp
gnaw
On
Ears
And eyes
Line after line
Cuts as paper a thousand times over
Every vowel and every consonant
Transformed into verse
Hammers
Flesh into submission
I will bleed
With each allusion
Would I have known
That in this was no healing balm
This poetry is
Idolatry
And this is my suicide
As the sticks and stones strike my bones from the tempest across the torrent ford,
I'm glad that we can find peace in knowing that the pen is mightier than the sword.
While it is true the pen is mightier than the sword,
We must not forget that bad people own pens too.
You may have put away your sword but a war of words
Is stiill being fought
So sharpen your wit and keep a good supply of pens
For when a counter argument is needed
To prevent just one side of the story being told
Lest some innocents get burned by the clever wording
From the pens of those up to no good.
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
- In general, I guess that's true
But mine's a lazy blighter;
It treats sloth as a bloody virtue
It's not the liveliest of beasts
It's always at a halt
It likes staring at blank paper
As though that's the thing at fault
It lives a charmed sedentary life
Full speed is torpidly inert
It charges around at the pace of a slug
When flat out and alert
My pen possesses zero 'nift' -
I can't fault it for being too nifty
Its' sweet repose is a full-on doze
It thinks saving ink is thrifty
It's scintillatingly steady
So passively at peace
Unchanging in its' inactivity
Like a grazing wildebeest
So languid and so supine
As it munches on my thought
Remaining ever restful
Seeing hibernation as a sport
It's frustratingly calm and fixed
To the point of being plain dull
And that's when it's being lively
It's worse still, when in a lull
But now and then I drag it
Out of its' latent, dormant air
Force it to get some exercise
And treat my thoughts with care
Often it’s quite useless
It's rare for the spark to light -
But when thought and pen work as one
Well, that's the time I write
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