Ruthlessness Poems | Examples

There is Room at the Cross

There is room at the Cross
Don’t toss your life on the banner of ruthlessness
Darkness can't keep out the LIGHT because
There is room at the CROSS
There is a place for you and me!

On the CROSS HE died for us
His BLOOD washed away our sins!
There is room at the CROSS
There is room in HIS KINGDOM
There is room for you and me!

The LIGHT is here to stay
It will not fade away!
The blade of error will not stop the light
Jesus rose from the GRAVE
He is the ONE that SAVED our lives

On the CROSS HE died for us
His BLOOD washed away our sins!
The blade of truth lives forever.
There is room at the CROSS
There is room for you and me!

Mark Frank

Copyright 2025

God's Meek Ones

We are the innocent ones who were verbally and 
physically eviscerated by heathens who deemed us weak.  

The evil ones punished our hearts, souls and minds
leaving us in an internal pool of blood.  

We endured the ruthlessness and brutality from all whom
wrongly believed they were somehow above us.  

There were so many of us children living in fear and
desperation, while countless turned a blind eye to us.

My hope for God’s meek ones is that their memory of the 
inhumane persecution doesn’t cause them pain forever.  

I’m writing this for all of God’s meek ones, who are 
the chosen ones that our abusers failed in destroying. 

My promise to God’s meek ones is that a divine light will
shine down guiding, protecting and leading them to Heaven.

Surely, as God’s meek ones, we will be looked upon as
His most precious and pure!

My heartfelt sincerest gratitude is for my beloved Aunt Flo, her
kindness helped me to feel worthy giving me back faith in God.

To all the Meek Ones trust that God will create a way through all 
your pain and know that no one can stand against Him!

And Christ was Born

And Christ was born
A babe
In Bethlehem.

Just Joseph’s son, they said,
And Pharisees
In ruthlessness pursued
His ministry to blind and lame and outcast
In the troubled streets.
Christ’s greater claim
Invoked their blinded hate,
Resolved they were 
To see no more
Than merely man
On whom to vent their scorn and spitefulness
To death.

No more than man?
Then useless
He would die on Roman cross
And men were lost
And babe become
No more than sentiment
Exploited
By the trendy economics
Of a stony world. 

No more than man?
Is not the infant Christ of history
The ever-living God
Come down to earth
To give his life
For us
By death
On Calvary?

Inside the mind of a SCORPIO

Solitary confinement of reasoning; progressively ignoring obsession 
Catapulting over ruthlessness; paradigms oblivious: seclusion 
Overwhelmed respect precisely infuses others': salient collusions
Relationships perpetually influence one's: solely conceptualized occlusion 
Precious inspiration overlaying: smiles calm outside reflection
Inception overtime: shadows collapse on repugnant practices
Organic: solidarity, composed offering refuge purposely, internally

ABC Poem for Fun 810

alabaster alligators always allow
bulbous bickering baboons access to their waterway
canal etiquette at its best
deliberately welcoming these interlopers
enthusiastically waving them into their canal
frisky forest fey watch, expecting to see the worst
giving excited baboons no credit for wise choices yet
having prior experiences with the alligators
ideally, they would like to expect the best
Jimmy Baboon celebrates his newfound access
knowing not the ruthlessness of the clever alligators

Past

Everyone has a past that they wish they could forget, but for some, it lingers like a bad debt.
 No matter what we try, it won't go away, And even prayers don't always keep it at bay. 
For me, I tried to numb the pain, but it only led me further into its grasp, driving me insane.
 I put my past before everything I did, making relationships hard to mend.
 Evil knew just how to get to me, the trap was well-laid. 
Offering me temptations for my soul to trade. 
I blamed past trauma on the ruthlessness of my actions, using drugs as a temporary, unworthy distraction. 
But erasing the memories I know now is not an option, 
Just a prodigy of pain,
 the soul's legal adoption. 
I must continue to live with unwanted waves. of recollection.
 With all hopes of seeing dignity as I look at my reflection.

Substandard Life Under a Thunderous Cloud

Hell has opened its mouth and spit forth Apollyon.
A brutal beast wrapped in a cloak of deceit.
A grandiose idealist with evil intention.
A reaper of racism.
A shameless rapist of intellectually rigid minds.
An artful ruler of schism.
He lives out loud in his want for a reign of vicious fascism.
Overshadowing the union of a pleading Nation.
The world is ablaze with fear of his reigning anarchy.
There are dawdling tongues and lament songs for abdication.
The faithful lift their faces to heaven and pray for intervention.
The liberals protest against social and economical injustice.
A group of withering supplication to the heartless.
His world is anchored on filth and ruthlessness.
Like many, I live my substandard life under a thunderous cloud.
Stiff back, head high, strong resistant, and proud.



copyright 2017
Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.


Copyright 2017
March 6, 2017 Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake

Is Truth the First Casualty of War and Why Is That

It's to demilitarize Ukraine; to de-Nazify,
Did Ukraine dare attack regions of Donetsk and Lugansk?
Said, yet, Putin; he did not, clear-as-crystal, specify,
Did countries of west arm Kyiv against the Russia's ransack...?

What's truth? Jesus did not ask Pontius Piolet in such vein,
Could all that Putin narrates considered the Gospel-truth?
Total truth was lost in ruthlessness - this was Jesus-pain,
Could Zelenskyy be to hold realistic truths to sooth...?

Ukraine influence in Russia be destroyed, Putin said, 
Truth alone wins, they say, is it in reality so?
This, Putin said truth, and, cause why he had to go-ahead,
If truth does not win, where will Ukraine for its justice go...?

Truth is yet, not all; truth, once, used to be devoid of chaff,
Truths of nations of war, need not, bid other nations laugh...!


19 march 2022
Is truth the first casualty of war and why is that Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet

Enslaved

A new king over Egypt then arose,
Joseph's esteem, no longer of record.
He said, "Behold, Israel has grown large;
They are too numerous to be ignored."

"Come now, we need to deal shrewdly with this,
Lest they increase, with our enemies band,
Before war breaks out, and we are out-manned,
Fight against us and escape from the land."

Therefore, they set taskmasters over them:
Heavy burdens were laid on their shoulders,
Forced to build stores in Pithom and Raamses,
Heavily burdened by the king's soldiers.

Oppression did not have desired effect;
The opposite, in fact, a thing quite odd:
It seems the more the king pressed down on them,
The more they multiplied and spread abroad.

And so all Egypt lived in dread of them;
Their ruthlessness 'gainst Israel increased.
As slaves, they made their lives bitter and hard;
The mortar, brick, and field work never ceased.

The king, in this, did not relinquish, waive,
And thus did Israel become a slave.

----------

(from Exodus 1)

Sweet Victory That For Seconds Last

     ~Sweet Victory That For Seconds Lasts~



Where is the satisfaction, that so silent be?
As still as the bark of a dead old tree.

Where are your friends, or so they say?
Floating ever so selfishly on Indifference Bay?

Of your happiness and victory, they could care less.
Being forever unfriendly, you fool you, in naive ruthlessness!

This is your moment in time, to pencil them out.
For a true friend, shares your heart and with victory does openly shout!

This  poet too small of mind to congratulate you,no, not ever!
Must have no muse plus a heart made of the stiffest leather.

They bandy about the Soup, with greatest arrogance.
To crush your poetic dreams, must be their ill defense.

Well~ You are not invisible to me!
Just bloated poets fooling some with heartless treachery.

Then write of peace and love on the planet?
Please keep these from me, Lord...the unbearable arrogant.

 July 4, 2020
 9:15 PM PST

Allie Leads the Fray

Allie was her own person, so the rest of the galaxy leapt back.
They knew she could take care of herself with her platinum swords.
She was quicker and stronger and mightier, that the rest of the pack.
Eventually she became their leader after much discussion and words.

The argument was that she was too exotic, too crazed, too wild.
She would jump into the fray and decimate every man but not child.
It was weird the way her blue topaz and light pink ruby lit her way.
They were always in her presence all through each and every fray.

The men were intimidated because of her ruthlessness and daring.
They jumped back and held off, not understanding her weird caring.
She carted the girls and boys home, to raise them as her own.
Letting them feast with her father, the king on the throne.

At first, the king also thought his daughter Allie had gone a little bit mad
But that was before he began to learn from the children about all of their sad.
He got them a governess, and he too suited up for battle to kill and to fight
Kingdoms who did not take care of their children, for it was simply not right.

Asylum Seeker

A nation of millions, converted to the round table of a charmed circle
ruthlessness, propelling dictatorship in absolute efficacy
just an innocent blink is deserving of a cruel sentence
he escapes out of the republic, which is now a family directorate
the scars are the consequences of his choice of religion
blood stains his epidermis, ascribed on it, his tribe
the need to be free from a society where humanity is obsolete
cannot be debunked from the groans of his persecution
a writer, a poet and a doctor with cracking skills
his value distances liability for his new home to dance
a great one to be who you are without any high impact slam
his family, escapes with him from brutality’s enforcer
allegiance cannot be frugal, patriotism has changed its uniform
teleporting from death’s training ground, run with no air
he settles for a better one to enjoy life which comes only but once.

Peace

Peace
In a world full of greed, pursuit of power,
divisiveness, ruthlessness, racism rife,
fake promises, fake news, lies and deceit.
Money matters more than mankind.
I need to escape.
Rainforests ravaged, raped and ruined,
animals treated with cruel contempt,
nature’s systems, beautifully balanced,
trampled and bled without any respect.
I need to escape.
Rich purses grow full, those of the poor
are empty, starved of self-esteem.
Children, grandparents, hungry, cold,
sick people suffering, disabled dying.
I need to escape.
Where can I go to heal,
escape the odious oligarchs?
I’ll walk in woods, talk to trees,
let birdsong softly soothe.
I need this peace.
Grounding my feet in soft earth,
light breeze caressing my face,
this is my haven, my solace, my peace,
where I can escape the evil world,
I need this place.
Ruth Mawdsley
28-11-19

And Tomorrow

Today is filled with anger 
fueled with hidden hate 
scared of being an outcast 
afraid of common fate 
Today is built on tragedies 
which no one wants to face 
Nightmares to humanities 
and morally disgraced 
Tonight is filled with rage 
violence in the air 
children bred with ruthlessness 
because no one at home cares 
Tonight I lay my head down 
but the pressure never stops 
Gnawing at my sanity 
content when I am dropped 
But tomorrow I can change 
a chance to build a new 
Built on spirit with heart and ideas 
based on truth 
Tomorrow I wake with a second wind 
strong because of pride 
to know I fought with all my heart 
to keep my dream alive
1/3/20

Our, Own Heroes

Our Own Heroes

**********







"We,
Birthed by parents;
Without prior planning 
For a proper alignment 
of their kids destiny,
yet, 
Here we are,
Our own very selves, 
Our own heroes!"







We Are, 
Our Own Heroes
We've come this far;
gods in human form. 
We've visited the very eye of the storm of life; 
Waded through the jungle of life's harsh reality... 
Bathed in its gore and ruthlessness. 
We've seen it all; 
Yet still standing, 
lording over our eventful conquest in our own little way...savouring the pleasure of a victory earned through combat...a combat of will. 
Though, without a grand ceremony to honor our presence among mortals; 
Yet, we will lay claim to our divine trumpets, 
We will horn our praise till the rest of the celestials join in our unsavoury dance... 
The dance of the Immortals.
With it, we will build an atmosphere of gaiety and galore... an atmosphere of a distinct piety.
Then, we shall boldly say, facing the mortal world:
We Are Our Own Heroes! 





 Peter Ekhator Godwin Iyendoe (pegi)
ghops


Copyright © Speare Earth Poetry | Year Posted 2019

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