“Please, God–” her voice broke, and I could tell that she was crying. “Emma, don’t go. I need you.”
“Ainsley, calm down,” I whispered into the cell phone, twisting my arm awkwardly to get a better grip on the slick, sweat-soaked object. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear. Shh.”
“Don’t say that, Emma. Whenever you leave, you always say that. WHY?”
he sat looking up at me with the most pitiful eyes, he knew his punishment if he lived and knew the blood on my hands. he begged and he pleaded me for my mercy; just kill me now. his fate forfeit to me and i was to play god… was i a forgiving god or was i a sinister god?
she closed her eyes and clenched her fists over the rope. this was it. she begged the gods for mercy. anything. she would give anything if they would let her live. her grip on the rope slid. she grasped harder with her sweaty palms.
she begged for her life as the knife slipped towards her throat. he did not move, she looked him in the eyes and saw this. her demise was a fact. she closed her eyes and prayes. a yell cut off from above her. it was her partner. cutting the man down. he fell in apile and bled over the wood floor.
“please, please, please,” he begs at your knees, his tears dampening his blindfold. he inches forward, cheek nuzzling your thigh blindly, desperate for any kind of contact with you. “eren, baby, please.”
your eyes glimmer, green-gold, and you reach down to rake a hand through his hair.
“you can do a better job than that, can’t you?” you ask, tone teasing. you give his chin an affectionate tap, and he shudders at the suddenness of the tender gesture. “beg.”
She knelt before him, hands clasped together, tears streaming down her face. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please spare him. My husband has ever been your loyal servant. He knew not what he did.”
She was pleading for his love until she realized that he didn’t really love her, and that real love wasn’t worth being pleaded for, it should be given freely.
Norine had never heard Amelia’s voice contort the way it did. It was like it had been grabbed, squeezed, yanked into an unnatural position and wrung out, all expressed in the one syllable she was able to utter– “No!” The same abuse done unto the blonde woman’s voice was dealt out to Norine’s heart. It thumped like the footfalls of a frantic fleeing hare.
I am constantly pleading for my soul to be saved. Why have I left my morals and values of the old. What is happening as I am getting older. Lord please, I am pleading to be saved!
i tried. for you i tried. and i honestly thought you could’ve been everything for me. how could you give all that away. i swear our lives together are like swimming. you’re doing perfect back flips off the diving board and old lady positions in the water. and me? well i’m drowning going under, under, under. sinking so deep you forget i’m there.
Living up on that mountain top I couldn’t help but look at the world around me. The air lifted my hair, pulling it backwards, pleading me to jump and feel the wind beneath my arms like I was flying.
A scream filled abandoned house. “PLEASE NO” a helpless girl ran from out of the darkness, she ran into the empty barn. The girl hid behind an old crafting table. A tall mangled shadow entered the barn soon after, his deep, ghostly voice echoed in her ears, “Come out Lucy.. I just want to talk.” The shadows nails screeched against the rotting wood. It knocked rusted tool off of the table the girl was hiding behind, she tucked her knees in tighter and began to sob. Suddenly, it was quiet, it had stopped and seemed to leave the barn. She peeked around the corner, it was gone. She got up and slowly made her way to the door. Just as she thought everything was okay, its hand emerged from the darkness, “NO PLEASE STOP!” its laugh haunted the barn as her screams of agony played on the background.
It wasn’t her fathers ardent and, she thinks, perhaps even heartfelt pleading that makes her stay her hand. Nor was it the spine-tingling sobs that wrenched themselves ceaselessly from her mothers throat. No, what made her spare her life was the look in her eyes. The defiant acceptance of fate, of her fate.
She’d never seen such strength before; she certainly hadn’t expected to find it in the eyes of a simple peasant girl, of all people.
he looked at her, blue eyes pleading. “don’t leave… please.” but she turned her back, although the tears fell from her eyes as she did so. she walked out of his life, forcing herself to not look back. forever he would be haunted by the sound of her footsteps as she walked away.
Sitting tied to that chair there was nothing I could do. Every time he hit me I would cry and so. He raised his hand one more time and I stared pleading into his soulless eyes……
Ohara pleaded with Tricia to stay for a few more days until he could talk to his friend Detective Makita. He needed her to convince him the case was real, and there may be more questions as the investigation proceeded.
I was pleading for a way out. After all this time stranded in one dimension of horror, a horror that was perhaps not so horrible to others but certainly to myself for I had never experienced worse, I was at my limit, and it was probably pathetic. I have been milked. It was a thing called life, which seems much more difficult than it should be.
I’ve never been one to beg or plead. I don’t know what you did to me, but in the few months that we knew each other, I changed completely. I would do anything in this moment for you to come back to me. I’m begging, I’m pleading, all I want is you here with me. Nothing’s the same. I can’t go back to the way it was before.
my eyes are bargains to god asking you to come back from the place from which you cannot return and even though i know you did not go willingly and you did not go peaceably and you did not go happily there is no way you can do this because there are men with hands like tools and there are children with hands like rocket sticks and they don’t know when not to fire and it’s not right that you had to leave like this but you can’t come back you can’t come back you can’t
She tended to feel it was beneath her, or that it ought to be. A woman of her stature and ability should never have to plead for anything. She was talented enough to be able to secure anything she wanted for herself. That being said, however, today she had to appreciate that sad truth: sometimes, knowing when to lose your dignity and beg was just as important as keeping it.
Pleading for his life, the mugger knelt on the wet asphalt, rain mingling with the tears streaming down his face. The Masked Vigilante had caught another one, and loved to toy with his prey like a housecat.
She rushed down the hill, her bike hissing beneath her her feet. The wind blew through her hair as her eyes were forced shut by the wind. She loved the hilly terrain of San Francisco, the foggy days and the salty air. Her bike screeched to a halt, she picked up a small picnic basket, and smiled at the beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Don’t do this to me.” She was on her knees, she was chasing him out the door. “Please, please…” Sobbing interspersed with hiccups, almost like laughter, funny how that is, she didn’t know if she was laughing or crying anymore, she could’ve been going insane. It all seemed the same just then, when her world was falling apart. Felt like the windows should’ve shattered, the shutters blown open and the walls crumbled down, the vines should’ve wormed their way in like snakes, the floor and ceiling reduced to a skeleton, the entire structure should’ve aged a hundred years in that single moment. When the door slammed she pressed her cheek to the floor and felt the smoothness of the wood, thought maybe she could feel it decaying already, she only wanted to rot away with the floor and feel the grasses pushing up through her skin, feel the earth taking her back.
i want this so badly. please! please! i promise i will be the best daughter in the whole world for the rest of my life. I am begging you. I won’t ask for anything else for the rest of the year. If you would just get me this one thing, I will be so happy.
there I was again, at the reigns of the day’s worth, pleading
begging for the attentive desire of my cigarette box, labeled camel royals!
was I not to want a ciggaratte, thus I declined, because a taste was enough.
despite the elusive pleasure that the inhalation of tobacco smoke flowed in my lungs,
I did not need it! I need not want it!
a feather can tickle, but a colorful dirt duster appears to be glossy in color though really carries baggage and detriments of dust animals,
digressing I rub velvet cloth on the bottom of my feet to tickle me instead.
I choose to write, when smoking is brought about thought, pleading my favoritism to float to the gracious goodness .
aS i sat there in the dark room, I heard a voice from outside. It sounded like someone crying and pleading with their captor. I knew that they would have been captured, because I had been too. Three weeks ago I was brought into this dark room. Three weeks ago that was the last time I aw the light.
Pleading means to strike a chord with the listener, or should I say it should be used in such a context. Pleading also means to present your argument. Your argument should plead to the person who is hearing this.
Pleading means begging, which is a begging thing to ask for something, and pleading is a synonym for it. Homeless people like to plead and they get things like food. Many people have pleaded in their lives. A man is homeless and he is pleading for food because he wants to eat or else he will die. Lots of people plead, even dogs, or cats. People plead for permission to do other things. I like trains!!!!!!!!!! I like Trains!!! Random.
Pleading means begging, which is a begging thing to ask for something, and pleading is a synonym for it. Homeless people like to plead and they get things like food. Many people have pleaded in their lives. A man is homeless and he is pleading for food because he wants to eat or else he will die. Lots of people plead, even dogs, or cats. People plead for permission to do other things.
I was pleading to have my book back. The book was special, and that is why I was pleading for it.
After all, I came from the book practically. I felt like the characters were my old friends, and the world was my home.
I beg of you. Beseech you. But it’s no use; you won’t even look me in the eye. I mean, how can you be so selfish? It’s a small sacrifice on your part, and I’ll reap ten times the benefits, which I’ll share with you, I promise. How can you be so blinded by your own desires?
“I honestly don’t know what to do, Mike, I mean, she was pleading for her life for God’s sake.”
“Calm, down Josie. Start from the beginning.”
“I went into work like normal.”
“Okay.”
“And then I stumbled across this woman sitting out front, an officer confronting her about sitting there because she was homeless.”
“So what was so bad about that?”
“He took out his baton and threatened to beat her.”
“Really, why?”
I clung to the bars of my jail cell, silently pleading for another cup of water. I knew the warden could see the desperation dripping from my eyes, in the form of both sweat and tears, ridiculously salty and stinging the skin surrounding my nose. After a few minutes, she finally caved, filling a metal mug with lukewarm tap water and handing it to me.
“You can always ask,” she murmured aggressively, which I knew was nonsense, but I happily accepted the opportunity to wet my parched tongue.
He was pleading her not to make him go out into the world, not to have to step under the sunlight where unfriendly eyes could meet him and pry him apart within a few moments. He’d experienced enough hatred for his face without even leaving the house – but she was adamant that he had to go. And when she decided that something was going to happen, nothing was going to stop her.
“Please, God–” her voice broke, and I could tell that she was crying. “Emma, don’t go. I need you.”
“Ainsley, calm down,” I whispered into the cell phone, twisting my arm awkwardly to get a better grip on the slick, sweat-soaked object. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear. Shh.”
“Don’t say that, Emma. Whenever you leave, you always say that. WHY?”
The sounds of pleading filled the room, cacophonous against the quiet night. Tiny, shrill voices asking for cake, for ice cream, for milk, ughhhhhhh.
My god, do I loathe small children.
he sat looking up at me with the most pitiful eyes, he knew his punishment if he lived and knew the blood on my hands. he begged and he pleaded me for my mercy; just kill me now. his fate forfeit to me and i was to play god… was i a forgiving god or was i a sinister god?
she closed her eyes and clenched her fists over the rope. this was it. she begged the gods for mercy. anything. she would give anything if they would let her live. her grip on the rope slid. she grasped harder with her sweaty palms.
she begged for her life as the knife slipped towards her throat. he did not move, she looked him in the eyes and saw this. her demise was a fact. she closed her eyes and prayes. a yell cut off from above her. it was her partner. cutting the man down. he fell in apile and bled over the wood floor.
picture it:
an orphan boy, sitting
on the concrete, cool autumn air
hitting his face.
his hands out, grubby,
pudgy things, sticky and sweet
from plundered garbage,
begging for spare
change, do you have
any spare change, sir?
that orphan boy is residing between my lungs.
pleading, pleading for someone
to grab one of those chubby palms
and pull him to safety.
but if not that, just some spare change, sir,
to show him he’s worth a little something
at the end of the night.
“please, please, please,” he begs at your knees, his tears dampening his blindfold. he inches forward, cheek nuzzling your thigh blindly, desperate for any kind of contact with you. “eren, baby, please.”
your eyes glimmer, green-gold, and you reach down to rake a hand through his hair.
“you can do a better job than that, can’t you?” you ask, tone teasing. you give his chin an affectionate tap, and he shudders at the suddenness of the tender gesture. “beg.”
She knelt before him, hands clasped together, tears streaming down her face. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please spare him. My husband has ever been your loyal servant. He knew not what he did.”
She was pleading for his love until she realized that he didn’t really love her, and that real love wasn’t worth being pleaded for, it should be given freely.
Norine had never heard Amelia’s voice contort the way it did. It was like it had been grabbed, squeezed, yanked into an unnatural position and wrung out, all expressed in the one syllable she was able to utter– “No!” The same abuse done unto the blonde woman’s voice was dealt out to Norine’s heart. It thumped like the footfalls of a frantic fleeing hare.
As you hand leaves mine, my fingers plead for body. How can be alone, when you’re right here? choice is over rated, much like your past opinion of me.
I am constantly pleading for my soul to be saved. Why have I left my morals and values of the old. What is happening as I am getting older. Lord please, I am pleading to be saved!
i tried. for you i tried. and i honestly thought you could’ve been everything for me. how could you give all that away. i swear our lives together are like swimming. you’re doing perfect back flips off the diving board and old lady positions in the water. and me? well i’m drowning going under, under, under. sinking so deep you forget i’m there.
Living up on that mountain top I couldn’t help but look at the world around me. The air lifted my hair, pulling it backwards, pleading me to jump and feel the wind beneath my arms like I was flying.
A scream filled abandoned house. “PLEASE NO” a helpless girl ran from out of the darkness, she ran into the empty barn. The girl hid behind an old crafting table. A tall mangled shadow entered the barn soon after, his deep, ghostly voice echoed in her ears, “Come out Lucy.. I just want to talk.” The shadows nails screeched against the rotting wood. It knocked rusted tool off of the table the girl was hiding behind, she tucked her knees in tighter and began to sob. Suddenly, it was quiet, it had stopped and seemed to leave the barn. She peeked around the corner, it was gone. She got up and slowly made her way to the door. Just as she thought everything was okay, its hand emerged from the darkness, “NO PLEASE STOP!” its laugh haunted the barn as her screams of agony played on the background.
It wasn’t her fathers ardent and, she thinks, perhaps even heartfelt pleading that makes her stay her hand. Nor was it the spine-tingling sobs that wrenched themselves ceaselessly from her mothers throat. No, what made her spare her life was the look in her eyes. The defiant acceptance of fate, of her fate.
She’d never seen such strength before; she certainly hadn’t expected to find it in the eyes of a simple peasant girl, of all people.
he looked at her, blue eyes pleading. “don’t leave… please.” but she turned her back, although the tears fell from her eyes as she did so. she walked out of his life, forcing herself to not look back. forever he would be haunted by the sound of her footsteps as she walked away.
Sitting tied to that chair there was nothing I could do. Every time he hit me I would cry and so. He raised his hand one more time and I stared pleading into his soulless eyes……
Ohara pleaded with Tricia to stay for a few more days until he could talk to his friend Detective Makita. He needed her to convince him the case was real, and there may be more questions as the investigation proceeded.
I was pleading for a way out. After all this time stranded in one dimension of horror, a horror that was perhaps not so horrible to others but certainly to myself for I had never experienced worse, I was at my limit, and it was probably pathetic. I have been milked. It was a thing called life, which seems much more difficult than it should be.
I’ve never been one to beg or plead. I don’t know what you did to me, but in the few months that we knew each other, I changed completely. I would do anything in this moment for you to come back to me. I’m begging, I’m pleading, all I want is you here with me. Nothing’s the same. I can’t go back to the way it was before.
my eyes are bargains to god asking you to come back from the place from which you cannot return and even though i know you did not go willingly and you did not go peaceably and you did not go happily there is no way you can do this because there are men with hands like tools and there are children with hands like rocket sticks and they don’t know when not to fire and it’s not right that you had to leave like this but you can’t come back you can’t come back you can’t
She tended to feel it was beneath her, or that it ought to be. A woman of her stature and ability should never have to plead for anything. She was talented enough to be able to secure anything she wanted for herself. That being said, however, today she had to appreciate that sad truth: sometimes, knowing when to lose your dignity and beg was just as important as keeping it.
A beating heart,
A tear-filled eye,
The horrid art,
Of asking why,
To feel the needing,
Of pleading.
Pleading for his life, the mugger knelt on the wet asphalt, rain mingling with the tears streaming down his face. The Masked Vigilante had caught another one, and loved to toy with his prey like a housecat.
She rushed down the hill, her bike hissing beneath her her feet. The wind blew through her hair as her eyes were forced shut by the wind. She loved the hilly terrain of San Francisco, the foggy days and the salty air. Her bike screeched to a halt, she picked up a small picnic basket, and smiled at the beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Don’t do this to me.” She was on her knees, she was chasing him out the door. “Please, please…” Sobbing interspersed with hiccups, almost like laughter, funny how that is, she didn’t know if she was laughing or crying anymore, she could’ve been going insane. It all seemed the same just then, when her world was falling apart. Felt like the windows should’ve shattered, the shutters blown open and the walls crumbled down, the vines should’ve wormed their way in like snakes, the floor and ceiling reduced to a skeleton, the entire structure should’ve aged a hundred years in that single moment. When the door slammed she pressed her cheek to the floor and felt the smoothness of the wood, thought maybe she could feel it decaying already, she only wanted to rot away with the floor and feel the grasses pushing up through her skin, feel the earth taking her back.
i want this so badly. please! please! i promise i will be the best daughter in the whole world for the rest of my life. I am begging you. I won’t ask for anything else for the rest of the year. If you would just get me this one thing, I will be so happy.
there I was again, at the reigns of the day’s worth, pleading
begging for the attentive desire of my cigarette box, labeled camel royals!
was I not to want a ciggaratte, thus I declined, because a taste was enough.
despite the elusive pleasure that the inhalation of tobacco smoke flowed in my lungs,
I did not need it! I need not want it!
a feather can tickle, but a colorful dirt duster appears to be glossy in color though really carries baggage and detriments of dust animals,
digressing I rub velvet cloth on the bottom of my feet to tickle me instead.
I choose to write, when smoking is brought about thought, pleading my favoritism to float to the gracious goodness .
Hunter lifted his eyes briefly, then dropped them again. “No. No, I guess I’m really not.”
The man, if he was even mortal, smiled. “I didn’t think so. How could anybody be happy here? So ask me what you want to ask.”
The prince closed his eyes. “Please. Take me with you. Just… Help me leave.”
Brave do the bleeding
Cowards only the pleading
So whimps take the whip
KIA’s R.I.P.
MIA’s CRB
– !Haiku-mann!
aS i sat there in the dark room, I heard a voice from outside. It sounded like someone crying and pleading with their captor. I knew that they would have been captured, because I had been too. Three weeks ago I was brought into this dark room. Three weeks ago that was the last time I aw the light.
Pleading means to strike a chord with the listener, or should I say it should be used in such a context. Pleading also means to present your argument. Your argument should plead to the person who is hearing this.
Pleading means begging, which is a begging thing to ask for something, and pleading is a synonym for it. Homeless people like to plead and they get things like food. Many people have pleaded in their lives. A man is homeless and he is pleading for food because he wants to eat or else he will die. Lots of people plead, even dogs, or cats. People plead for permission to do other things. I like trains!!!!!!!!!! I like Trains!!! Random.
Pleading means begging, which is a begging thing to ask for something, and pleading is a synonym for it. Homeless people like to plead and they get things like food. Many people have pleaded in their lives. A man is homeless and he is pleading for food because he wants to eat or else he will die. Lots of people plead, even dogs, or cats. People plead for permission to do other things.
I was pleading to have my book back. The book was special, and that is why I was pleading for it.
After all, I came from the book practically. I felt like the characters were my old friends, and the world was my home.
I beg of you. Beseech you. But it’s no use; you won’t even look me in the eye. I mean, how can you be so selfish? It’s a small sacrifice on your part, and I’ll reap ten times the benefits, which I’ll share with you, I promise. How can you be so blinded by your own desires?
“I honestly don’t know what to do, Mike, I mean, she was pleading for her life for God’s sake.”
“Calm, down Josie. Start from the beginning.”
“I went into work like normal.”
“Okay.”
“And then I stumbled across this woman sitting out front, an officer confronting her about sitting there because she was homeless.”
“So what was so bad about that?”
“He took out his baton and threatened to beat her.”
“Really, why?”
I clung to the bars of my jail cell, silently pleading for another cup of water. I knew the warden could see the desperation dripping from my eyes, in the form of both sweat and tears, ridiculously salty and stinging the skin surrounding my nose. After a few minutes, she finally caved, filling a metal mug with lukewarm tap water and handing it to me.
“You can always ask,” she murmured aggressively, which I knew was nonsense, but I happily accepted the opportunity to wet my parched tongue.
He was pleading her not to make him go out into the world, not to have to step under the sunlight where unfriendly eyes could meet him and pry him apart within a few moments. He’d experienced enough hatred for his face without even leaving the house – but she was adamant that he had to go. And when she decided that something was going to happen, nothing was going to stop her.