Close  

Safety Notice

If you are a survivor, please be careful in reading the information compiled here. It is impossible to give information on ritual abuse, and about people's opinions about ritual abuse, in a way that is not upsetting and/or triggering. Only you know how much is wise to read, and how much information you can absorb at one time.

Poetry by peter

Those days

It came from nowhere, tho yes i looked
a spark of home and hope
destroyed
they stood there, he and she
mom and dad, watching over me
whilst i bled and screamed in pain
mom can we stop playing your game
she laughed and dad wondered why
beatings continued, for long times i cry
still now today, the shame is there
for what has happened, i still cant say
tis to much to write down
to much to tell
those days, i fell
it came from nowhere, tho yes i looked
a child abandoned
for all is
what they took

 

The Fallen Angel

in darkness teared, across the room everywhere
voices of disguise heart full of hate and agression
two eyes tho blind
two hands tho pointless

the light not getting near
god expelled
far away
 
lonlyness killing the very core of life
tremendous suffering cutting pain going through the very fibers of the heartflesh
like every day, the fallen made another victim
 
a child trying to sleep, tho the eyes are red from tears
the face is darkned with pain
the soul is screaming little screams of help me help me
eventually a faint
to disapear again in the dark realm of hurt
poor child soul, bleeding to death
the fallen his sword of power and greed stroke again
straight to the boys heart
and again
and again
every single night
no light
just darkness
just pain
just suffer
no god to help
nothing

 

Back to top