You are at a trial by peers, trial by jury, and beyond that, a trial by fire. You must cross not only the minds of everyone within your path but through the valley of burning hell. Life consists of a trial. One big trial that everyone shall fail in the end. And these shall be failed as well. There is but one way to pass and that is by finishing it yourself. Welcome to reality. Blow off some steam.
when things happen in life that are unexpected….and hard. it’s the figuring out, overcoming, getting through and surviving. the fight. you hope that you come out on top…winning
It was a trial. The worse kind of trial. To go through this rite of passage meant that he would forever been seen in a different light. If he failed, he would be forever doomed and at the bottom of his tribe.
it was the night before and he’d just committed murder… or so everyone else thought. it was a beautiful scene. Blood everywhere, dripping from walls, off the ceiling, in the potted plant in the corner. Who would thought that he’d be caught instead of me?
The man walked into the court, what had he done, Nothing. But he was about to be convcted for the murder of thousands. What was he to say…”Nothing” His lawyer advised him instead of the truth to say nothing, What a twisted world it was when the truth means less then a simple lie to the jury.
the trial began. It was not for life, but for that which comes after. The end of all things. The moment of truth. Did you try hard enough? Did you love hard enough? Did you care? The time is up.
The trail was long, winding. Nothing was quite the same though, the information I mean. Of course it was all true, every accusation, but there was something cold and distant. It was like an old folk tale, but not the usual kind, the type that sent shivers through your body. The ones full of frightening details that you didn’t want to think about. But all the same, there it was: The truth.
It had been a long time since she has had to face anything like this. But she’s ready. She’s prepared and ready to go, this cake is fucking hers. She’s got all the ingredients she needs and she cranks the oven up.
The lights beat down on the back of his neck. He knew he was about to be convicted. Thrown into prison for the rest of his life. The trial was pointless. He couldn’t win.
The night had been long
And she bore the worst of fear her in silence
Would he be alright
Yes, she knew with certainity
She didn’t not dare to doubt
Her faith in all was bound to this single soul
Twilight graced the sky
Heralding his return
Bloody but unbroken
No words were needed
For weary joy lacks commotion in the reunion of such unwavering devotion
It had begun—
the trial would last days.
No one was sure who was innocent.
Tears were shed, feelings were hurt.
Friendships betrayed—
all was lost because of one night.
One murder brought them here.
By Fire
By light of truth
By everything that rises to greet you with fang, nail, and tooth
Yet in the end only your determination
Will bring about a sense of salvation
And all the rest is cycical, the calm after climax
A dove in the hand that gently coos
All she could do was stair straight ahead, mind oddly calm. The reality of the situation had long since set in and now it was simply the quiet calm before the storm. She watched the court room, heard them as they put her on trial, and silently swore she would destroy them all.
Trial and error is a part of life. You try different things, you fail, you try again, you fail again, and the process continues until you reach a point of contentment in your life. Like true love for example. Trial and error til you find the one for you.
trial. she waited in the room, her heart pounding and her lungs thudding like every breath was all it could take for her to write. they called her name and she stood up, a sea of faces a blur in front of her. her eyes watered and the room swam and they called her name again. sterner. a gavel pounded and she almost fainted. “yes?” please proceed. they started. she swam in a sea of faces and drowned again and again and again.
Trial by fire, they called it. The ritual that involved being burned to death, being scorched, only by the eyes of those you know and trust, by your loved ones. You disintegrate under their harsh scathing eyes as you try to remember how or why this had ever happened.
I have never been on trial, and maybe that’s a good thing. No, I know that’s a good thing. Bu the thing is, I have never been on trial because I have never taken a risk. I always play it safe.
I’m not even referring to only a trial in court. Even confrontation-wise I’ve always been safe.
A trial is something of utmost importance. Without trials, there can be no justice. Without trials, there can be no success. A trial is a time with you TRY someone, or something. Everybody who commits a crime must be tried. Every hobby, sport, etc, was at one time tried by somebody.
The trial is set. I know I’ll be found guilty, but does that matter at this point? I committed the murder, but my team can prove it was in self defense. He came at me, tried to pin me down, I only did what was right to my stalker. Still, in my mind I killed a human being, even if they were one that deserved it, I still had the power and capacity to take away a human life with my own bare hands. Will the court find that in favor?
Just keep it together — is that huror looking at me? scratching her nose? Is she sick? Damnit, should’ve traded her for the Hopi-Indian mother of two, definitely would’ve been a better choice, so much more sympathetic to our cau — holy shit, Judge Myers is a woman? Fuck, she’s hot, too.
I got called to do jury duty for a pretty boring trial a little while back. I didn’t get chosen to do it though because there were so many other people who actually WANTED to do it. Thank god because I really didn’t want to fucking do it. I would suck at it. My attention span just doesn’t work that way and I would end up judging the wrong way because I don’t fucking understand!
It wasn’t that she had told an untruth. No. And it wasn’t that she had stood before her peers, those who believed they knew her to be a pure and honest beacon, and lied. No, indeed. The guilt, the sickening guilt, came from her father, who knew of her lie. In whose good opinion she was now blackened.
No trial could be greater for her, no mountain higher, than the loss of her father’s love.
The day was hot and sticky. All eyes were on me. Would I fail? What would become of me in these next hours? The trial was set, the people had arrived. I walked in slowly, scared and nervous. I sat down in place, and began to type.
In the trial it was sad and silent. The jurors watched the accused as he took his designated seat. He was a solemn looking man dressed in a black simple looking short and stubby.
It would be that the day of my graduation is the same point in my life that the judge delivered a really crappy sentence. This trial was actual supposed to restore my reputation, but the corrupted jury somehow saw it best to pretend I wasn’t who I am.
Trials are what makes life worth living. Hardships are the bread and butter of a thriving society, because without them, who would bother to do anything? Inventions are built out of necessity, so as to avoid hardships. Therefore, without trials, we would never reach our full potential.
The trial was long. No one enjoyed it. The fans spun above there heads, echoing through the simple clap board room. No matter how hard the fans spun, the room still sweltered from the heat. It was summer of course. Despite having work at home to be done, everyone always took that day off to come and see the trial. They sat on their seats like kids in a movie theater, watching every movement made by the judge and suspect.
there was a judge and a man with a mullet was on trial in a dramatic court scene. He robbed a mullet bank, a place where they keep mullet wigs because they’re not in style this century anymore. But anyway he wanted to keep all the mullets for himself.
Trial. challenge. fear. success. hope. intensity.
I do believe through trial there are mistakes, but through mistakes there are also lessons. Chances. tries.
I heard I was going to Kitchener from a friend. Though, his identity is itself a trial amongst knowledge. Potential to be put on trial for an honest living – a modern interpretation of this. Say, how can we live “honest” truly, celebrities openly talk of doing illegal psychedelic drugs and no one is pursuing them, so why pursue us? Because it’s easy, its accessible, to catch one guy here or a gal over there, to make the statistics, for evidence for proof and yet these people with so much privilege get to keep it and hold it over us.
Why can’t we all act on our jealousy? Collectively remove celebrity status. Because of pride – we all want to be a celebrity – and sloth – its hard.
The way he indirectly questioned her whereabouts through their cellphone conversations helped her realize that he wasn’t someone she’d be able to deal with in the long run.
“His 17th trial
He has no chance
Been scammed out so many times
But this time he killed the man.
Dead man cannot speak
His thought process
Tells him he will win
Like every other time
But is it really true?
He can’t remember anything.
The stories are so unknown
Theres nothing to it
Nothing at all
Was it even him?
Are you sure?
He can barely remember his last name,
his first only engrained in his brain
from being tested and tested over again
Was it you, was it you?
Was that one of those insane asylums they take you to?
Is that it? Shall this be the downfall of me?
The Great?
The Tryer of All Crimes
The one who can lie his way out of anything
Belivable or not
A master eraser
No tracks
But is this trial his downfall?
Will it be his last one?
Will we be able to drop something like this?
Its a crazy addiction.
It needs to end.”
Says the Trial.
life is always a trial by fire-
you can’t rely on others to pull you through
ultimately, everything of your destiny depends on you
and how time & circumstances dictate the choices made
because there’s no going back, and no escape…
I just don’t know what to say. So many, with their tribulations. Life is what it is, ya know, and then you get stuck with this load of bunk. I’d rather see it as a positive, though. I’d rather thank that we can just hit these little moments in life and it’s more like a quest than a true presentation to failure. So nobodies gonna fail, really. It’s just about making it through.
there once was a trial in wich the defendant raped his victim. the trial debated for hours whilst they contemplated the verdict. Thirty minutes later the jury returned with the final ultimatum. Death in the first degree. He was only 14 years old.
Heather was going to be put on trial. She knew that as soon as she was whisked away in the cramped police car, whirling down main street with several onlookers lifting their heads from their shopping bags and their fancy convertibles and their children’s fallen ice cream cones to watch the display. She would be charged with murder.
Not just any murder. The murder of a bastard who tried to ruin her life. Why couldn’t ruining one’s life be a felony or federal offense?
I don’t think that I’d see your face at something like this, and want to call out to you. I mean, I knew I’d see you. You’re the murderer, you’re the one on trial for your life, for taking someone else’s life… But I didn’t think that when you walked by me, down the rows in court to take the stand that I’d want to put my hands on your face and kiss your forehead. I didn’t know that a mother could still feel love for a child so deeply in the face of all the wrongs done. I didn’t realize, and I want you to know I still love you.
You are at a trial by peers, trial by jury, and beyond that, a trial by fire. You must cross not only the minds of everyone within your path but through the valley of burning hell. Life consists of a trial. One big trial that everyone shall fail in the end. And these shall be failed as well. There is but one way to pass and that is by finishing it yourself. Welcome to reality. Blow off some steam.
when things happen in life that are unexpected….and hard. it’s the figuring out, overcoming, getting through and surviving. the fight. you hope that you come out on top…winning
Scraps of scorched paper fluttered free from her arms, leaving a tattered trail of sadness in her wake.
It was a trial. The worse kind of trial. To go through this rite of passage meant that he would forever been seen in a different light. If he failed, he would be forever doomed and at the bottom of his tribe.
it was the night before and he’d just committed murder… or so everyone else thought. it was a beautiful scene. Blood everywhere, dripping from walls, off the ceiling, in the potted plant in the corner. Who would thought that he’d be caught instead of me?
The man walked into the court, what had he done, Nothing. But he was about to be convcted for the murder of thousands. What was he to say…”Nothing” His lawyer advised him instead of the truth to say nothing, What a twisted world it was when the truth means less then a simple lie to the jury.
the trial began. It was not for life, but for that which comes after. The end of all things. The moment of truth. Did you try hard enough? Did you love hard enough? Did you care? The time is up.
The trail was long, winding. Nothing was quite the same though, the information I mean. Of course it was all true, every accusation, but there was something cold and distant. It was like an old folk tale, but not the usual kind, the type that sent shivers through your body. The ones full of frightening details that you didn’t want to think about. But all the same, there it was: The truth.
It had been a long time since she has had to face anything like this. But she’s ready. She’s prepared and ready to go, this cake is fucking hers. She’s got all the ingredients she needs and she cranks the oven up.
It’s go time.
The lights beat down on the back of his neck. He knew he was about to be convicted. Thrown into prison for the rest of his life. The trial was pointless. He couldn’t win.
“I killed him,” he said in a shaky voice.
The night had been long
And she bore the worst of fear her in silence
Would he be alright
Yes, she knew with certainity
She didn’t not dare to doubt
Her faith in all was bound to this single soul
Twilight graced the sky
Heralding his return
Bloody but unbroken
No words were needed
For weary joy lacks commotion in the reunion of such unwavering devotion
It had begun—
the trial would last days.
No one was sure who was innocent.
Tears were shed, feelings were hurt.
Friendships betrayed—
all was lost because of one night.
One murder brought them here.
It had begun—
the trial would last for days…
By Fire
By light of truth
By everything that rises to greet you with fang, nail, and tooth
Yet in the end only your determination
Will bring about a sense of salvation
And all the rest is cycical, the calm after climax
A dove in the hand that gently coos
All she could do was stair straight ahead, mind oddly calm. The reality of the situation had long since set in and now it was simply the quiet calm before the storm. She watched the court room, heard them as they put her on trial, and silently swore she would destroy them all.
Trial and error is a part of life. You try different things, you fail, you try again, you fail again, and the process continues until you reach a point of contentment in your life. Like true love for example. Trial and error til you find the one for you.
The loss between to people trial and error oh Simpson Jon Bennett hard times news
trial. she waited in the room, her heart pounding and her lungs thudding like every breath was all it could take for her to write. they called her name and she stood up, a sea of faces a blur in front of her. her eyes watered and the room swam and they called her name again. sterner. a gavel pounded and she almost fainted. “yes?” please proceed. they started. she swam in a sea of faces and drowned again and again and again.
Trial by fire, they called it. The ritual that involved being burned to death, being scorched, only by the eyes of those you know and trust, by your loved ones. You disintegrate under their harsh scathing eyes as you try to remember how or why this had ever happened.
I have never been on trial, and maybe that’s a good thing. No, I know that’s a good thing. Bu the thing is, I have never been on trial because I have never taken a risk. I always play it safe.
I’m not even referring to only a trial in court. Even confrontation-wise I’ve always been safe.
A trial is something of utmost importance. Without trials, there can be no justice. Without trials, there can be no success. A trial is a time with you TRY someone, or something. Everybody who commits a crime must be tried. Every hobby, sport, etc, was at one time tried by somebody.
The trial is set. I know I’ll be found guilty, but does that matter at this point? I committed the murder, but my team can prove it was in self defense. He came at me, tried to pin me down, I only did what was right to my stalker. Still, in my mind I killed a human being, even if they were one that deserved it, I still had the power and capacity to take away a human life with my own bare hands. Will the court find that in favor?
Just keep it together — is that huror looking at me? scratching her nose? Is she sick? Damnit, should’ve traded her for the Hopi-Indian mother of two, definitely would’ve been a better choice, so much more sympathetic to our cau — holy shit, Judge Myers is a woman? Fuck, she’s hot, too.
I got called to do jury duty for a pretty boring trial a little while back. I didn’t get chosen to do it though because there were so many other people who actually WANTED to do it. Thank god because I really didn’t want to fucking do it. I would suck at it. My attention span just doesn’t work that way and I would end up judging the wrong way because I don’t fucking understand!
It wasn’t that she had told an untruth. No. And it wasn’t that she had stood before her peers, those who believed they knew her to be a pure and honest beacon, and lied. No, indeed. The guilt, the sickening guilt, came from her father, who knew of her lie. In whose good opinion she was now blackened.
No trial could be greater for her, no mountain higher, than the loss of her father’s love.
The day was hot and sticky. All eyes were on me. Would I fail? What would become of me in these next hours? The trial was set, the people had arrived. I walked in slowly, scared and nervous. I sat down in place, and began to type.
In the trial it was sad and silent. The jurors watched the accused as he took his designated seat. He was a solemn looking man dressed in a black simple looking short and stubby.
It would be that the day of my graduation is the same point in my life that the judge delivered a really crappy sentence. This trial was actual supposed to restore my reputation, but the corrupted jury somehow saw it best to pretend I wasn’t who I am.
Trials are what makes life worth living. Hardships are the bread and butter of a thriving society, because without them, who would bother to do anything? Inventions are built out of necessity, so as to avoid hardships. Therefore, without trials, we would never reach our full potential.
The trial was long. No one enjoyed it. The fans spun above there heads, echoing through the simple clap board room. No matter how hard the fans spun, the room still sweltered from the heat. It was summer of course. Despite having work at home to be done, everyone always took that day off to come and see the trial. They sat on their seats like kids in a movie theater, watching every movement made by the judge and suspect.
there was a judge and a man with a mullet was on trial in a dramatic court scene. He robbed a mullet bank, a place where they keep mullet wigs because they’re not in style this century anymore. But anyway he wanted to keep all the mullets for himself.
Trial. challenge. fear. success. hope. intensity.
I do believe through trial there are mistakes, but through mistakes there are also lessons. Chances. tries.
I heard I was going to Kitchener from a friend. Though, his identity is itself a trial amongst knowledge. Potential to be put on trial for an honest living – a modern interpretation of this. Say, how can we live “honest” truly, celebrities openly talk of doing illegal psychedelic drugs and no one is pursuing them, so why pursue us? Because it’s easy, its accessible, to catch one guy here or a gal over there, to make the statistics, for evidence for proof and yet these people with so much privilege get to keep it and hold it over us.
Why can’t we all act on our jealousy? Collectively remove celebrity status. Because of pride – we all want to be a celebrity – and sloth – its hard.
The way he indirectly questioned her whereabouts through their cellphone conversations helped her realize that he wasn’t someone she’d be able to deal with in the long run.
“His 17th trial
He has no chance
Been scammed out so many times
But this time he killed the man.
Dead man cannot speak
His thought process
Tells him he will win
Like every other time
But is it really true?
He can’t remember anything.
The stories are so unknown
Theres nothing to it
Nothing at all
Was it even him?
Are you sure?
He can barely remember his last name,
his first only engrained in his brain
from being tested and tested over again
Was it you, was it you?
Was that one of those insane asylums they take you to?
Is that it? Shall this be the downfall of me?
The Great?
The Tryer of All Crimes
The one who can lie his way out of anything
Belivable or not
A master eraser
No tracks
But is this trial his downfall?
Will it be his last one?
Will we be able to drop something like this?
Its a crazy addiction.
It needs to end.”
Says the Trial.
life is always a trial by fire-
you can’t rely on others to pull you through
ultimately, everything of your destiny depends on you
and how time & circumstances dictate the choices made
because there’s no going back, and no escape…
I just don’t know what to say. So many, with their tribulations. Life is what it is, ya know, and then you get stuck with this load of bunk. I’d rather see it as a positive, though. I’d rather thank that we can just hit these little moments in life and it’s more like a quest than a true presentation to failure. So nobodies gonna fail, really. It’s just about making it through.
I am on trial. I’m very guilty. And yet.
I am not afraid. I’m not going to face death.
And yet.
I am on trial, but there is no justice.
there once was a trial in wich the defendant raped his victim. the trial debated for hours whilst they contemplated the verdict. Thirty minutes later the jury returned with the final ultimatum. Death in the first degree. He was only 14 years old.
Heather was going to be put on trial. She knew that as soon as she was whisked away in the cramped police car, whirling down main street with several onlookers lifting their heads from their shopping bags and their fancy convertibles and their children’s fallen ice cream cones to watch the display. She would be charged with murder.
Not just any murder. The murder of a bastard who tried to ruin her life. Why couldn’t ruining one’s life be a felony or federal offense?
I don’t think that I’d see your face at something like this, and want to call out to you. I mean, I knew I’d see you. You’re the murderer, you’re the one on trial for your life, for taking someone else’s life… But I didn’t think that when you walked by me, down the rows in court to take the stand that I’d want to put my hands on your face and kiss your forehead. I didn’t know that a mother could still feel love for a child so deeply in the face of all the wrongs done. I didn’t realize, and I want you to know I still love you.