Atrocity Stories

"I will not and cannot believe that evil is the normal condition of mankind." ~Fyodor Dostoevsky~ "I think the devil doesn't exist, but the man has created him, he has created him in his own image and likeness." ~Fyodor Dostoevsky~ This poem collection is dedicated to all the people who have suffered at the hands of the all those humans that had lowered themselves to the level of ruthless savages. A clusmy attempt on my part to go through the human history and bring out all the times we humans have failed ourselves as a creation gifted with the ability to make rational decisions.

The Birth of the Demon"** A peaceful home. A newborn child. A fresh beginning - or so it seemed. But behind closed doors, something begins to twist inside the mother's mind. Loneliness sharpens. Exhaustion grows. And a presence she cannot see begins whispering into her thoughts... pushing her toward a line she was never meant to cross. As tragedy strikes the family, the fractures widen. A neighbour witnesses something she should never have seen. A cursed object reawakens an ancient evil. A woman's spirit, broken by guilt and obsession, transforms into something far more dangerous - something that refuses to fade even after death. The house that once held innocence becomes the birthplace of atrocity. And when the demon finds Jason... a new chapter of terror begins. Some souls don't rest. Some souls don't forgive. Some souls... return.

The scars left behind from the times some can't leave behind...

The Earth beneath our feet shaken as the bombs rain down from the Heavens. Mushroom clouds bloomed across our gaze as the bamboo huts wet up ablaze. Collective factual stories of the Vietnam war, Khmer(Cambodia) and "Secret War"(Lao) from my own personal experiences and from other South Asian refugees as well, basically from all angles.

The mysterious atrocity

Murder and atrocity took overtook a village somewhere in Africa. Injustice and bloodshed was a hobby among the village folks in "Biafra". It was until then that a secret vilante groups known as the "Ultimate Revolutionary Men" , intervened to help fight the unending war at hand.

A story of unspeakable atrocities...

No Man's Land is a short story that deals with the horrors of World War 1. It talks about post-traumatic stress disorder (or shell shock as it was rightfully called back then) and the horrors that the common-folk always suffer during any war. It has some horror and spiritual elements, but I leave it to the reader to decide whether or not the soldier's story is true or if he's a victim of his own insanity.

even worse than the last jesus christ edit: why are so many people reading this it's ironic and bad why

A compilation of poems with the thoughts and the atrocities as a young girl in a society filled with critics. It talks of every phase one faces atleast once in their lifetime. There isn't a single person on earth who doesn't face hurdles in their life and there isn't a place where one is entirely content in life. Here the poet talks of phases of life with the perspective of a young adult. The poems published here can all be easily related to one's own life and readers would feel connected to.

A75 Laona Street was supposed to be a new beginning for the Hale family. A bigger home, a safer neighborhood, and a peaceful life... But the house has been waiting for them. At exactly 1:01 AM, the first sign appears - an old man staring into the grandmother's room for a split second. From that moment onward, the quiet home begins to twist into something alive. Burned food. Blood on the cross. Scratches on the walls. A dead priest appearing in dreams. And then their youngest son, Arav, starts smiling... in a way no child should ever smile. They haven't just moved into a house. They've stepped into a memory - a memory that refuses to stay buried. This is where the first atrocity begins.

Skyler and her brother are now orphans. The city they grew up in was now in ashes after everything that was controlled by energy had shut down.

We live in a time when children are raped and adults find justification for such a heinous crime. The Gods remain silent when a child is gang-raped in a temple for a week. And yet, we fidget around and find flaws in our mundane lives. We hold love in the narrowest possible definition and the crudest of light. It is the love that makes us selfish, the one that belittles the humanity in us. We live in the illusion of freedom, and thereby forsake the accountability and sense of responsibility that comes with independence. And yet, there is a love that can create heaven under the sky. The love that can drive someone to be better than yesterday, till he reaches the best of his potential. Such a point of goodness that can practically be called 'Godness'. I still hope.

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