He was a tyrant. Tall, stately, soaked in shadow and looming over everyone; his long hair cascaded down to his hips like an ink waterfall, golden eyes gleaming with wicked thirst for blood and chaos.
The heart is the tyrant of us all. Logic is so simple; the mind offers the easiest answers; the path of least resistance is so often so very non-resistant. But dreams, love, lust, passion, fury, hype, sweat, and the pull of her lips against the edge of your flesh captivate you, and you find yourself climbing mount everest, killing dragons, and even writing books of poetry, not for joy… but because the tyrant demands it.
The girl swung from his mothers arm as she meticulously balanced the lettuce she was putting in her trolly with the other. She knew that people watched. ‘why won’t you leave the wretch at home’ they’d be thinking.’ But they didn’t know what that would mean for her. So she let her hang, screaming, and carried on.
I am. I rule. I conquer, because I don’t know what else to do. It’s less a motivation from wanting to be on top than it is really an attempt to battle with boredom to end up winning.
I may be the tyrant or I may be the victim of a tyrant…or both! God will reveal the truth of His will for me this year. Jesus is my example for dealing with a tyrant, and Paul is my example of God’s power to change a tyrant. All for His glory and to further His Kingdom!! Amen, amen!!
I already did this word late last night. Tyrant. Who wants to be one? Who wants to live with one? Not me, that’s for sure. It feels like a big, Goliath of a word. Hard. Bully. Big and overpowering. How about trying on leader? Or love? Something softer? Kinder? Less bully?
I dreamt of a tyrant last night. We were rebelling, my family and me, and I knew it was fruitless. The futility of it made it a nightmare. They were brutal and stealing trains to kill. They were definitely planning to kill.
He strutted about the room, a little Hitler, owning his parents every atom and knowing it. She, a teenage babysitter, wasn’t prepared to battle a regime. She really just wanted to make $30 and watch cable when he went to bed. That’s not how the evening went. At all.
Pansy Parkinson was completely in her domain. This was her kingdom and these were her puppets. Who cared if they called her a tyrant? She flicked her hair back and stared down at the weak, pathetic Hufflepuff girl.
“I-I didn’t mean to,” the girl whimpered, cowering in her shoes.
Pansy smirked, her cold eyes piercing the girl’s heart. “I’m afraid sorry doesn’t cut it.”
the tyrant lies within, demanding autonomy, freedom, always wanting more and more, refusing other considerations, other points of view, pressing, pressing inward and refusing the outward.
tyrant is as tyrant does – literally. it is in the heart and the actions. It is in the dragging rather than the inspiring. it is in fear rather than love. tyrant is in the rant that we tire of. that was clever actually. not a bad minute. well done you!
hitler also the hunger games. president coin in the hunger games talked about tyranny and yet she was a tyrant which if you think about it is classic tyrants. tyrants are petty and insecure and feel the need to impose their power on others because they are afraid.
Everyone who knew the president on a personal level understood that she was no tyrant; she was simply attempting to maintain order in a society that was crumbling apart like stale bread. Yet the accusations stained the newspapers and magazines on a daily basis: Tyrant, Dictator, Megalomaniac. Yet President Sardonna would not let any of the vitriol get to her when she had a job to do.
Controlling, overbearing, overruling. Like a parent needing to micromanage every aspect of a child’s life, grasping to the tiniest of details. Like Metatron micro managing the events leading up to the angels fall.
You yell and scream and call names. Demand your way. Dig deep. Push on the bruised spots. Making the blue purple. Sometimes it fades to green but then you start again. layers of colour. Pretty in a rainbow but not a human. I used to love you.
He was a tyrant
Not a mean one
Not a political one
A tyrant in the sense that he took over my life
Demanding to be in my thoughts at all times
Wishing to be there
And i disappeared while he stayed strong
I became him and only him
Maybe that’s because that’s what I wanted
I wanted to be small and disappear
And he did that for me
But I eventually rose from the ashes
Bull-dowsed the devastation and him
I rebuilt myself
Strong
Happy
And finally there
What is a tyrant? I mean, who decides who there is a tyrant, and who isn’t? Maybe you think a person is acting like a tyrant, but what make you decide if that is right or wrong? Who had the power to decide what there is right and what there is wrong? Who am i to say that you are acting like a tyrant? And aren’t we all acting like tyrans sometimes?
Going through the world just with the mentallity of making other people miserable doesn’t make you “just a bad person” or a “person with bad intentions towards others”.
No, you fucker, it makes you a tyrant. A tyrant isn’t only a guy that lived thousands of years ago going through wars a killing people to survive. You are also like that in this century. You kill other peoples’ dreams just so you can, in a fucked up way, survive.
I can be a tyrant. Doling out orders but in my head I’m being to the point. To others i guess it’s just bossy. I’m not bossy and would they say the same to a man. Probably not. One may see a trysnt I see an outspoken woman.
The bleak night crept up on her as she stormed through the deserted castle. She felt the dark seep into her bones and her fear turned into an audible cackle in her head, as she slithered toward the tyrant.
His mother, a tyrant, would hover over him while he practiced his multiplication tables, “9×9 is…81?”. She would scold him and wrap his knuckles if he got the answer wrong, even harder when he used his fingers to count.
A tyrant is not very nice. He will be a bad person and do bad things to people. We should not become tyrants but be nice people. We should make tyrants be nice people too so the world will be a better place.
Rebellion is a craved emotion for most, if not all of us. For some, they have yet to discover this intriguing sense of wonder in opposing norms and going against conventions. When they finally find that ecstacy, their unique and unparalleled version of weed, they will create the most hineous crimes.
Tyrants are bad people, they only care about their own agenda, they don’t consider anyone else’s well-being, they dominate, they are selfish, they take advantage of others, and I avoid them.
The blood stained eyes of the tyrant looked insidiously at the crowd before him; the screams of the execution rang heavy in the air, long after they took his body away.
The woman was an absolute horror. She had the hair of a mutant orange, and the soul of a reanimated cadaver. Nothing in her house could be out of place, or the whole neighborhood would hear about it. She was mean, nasty, and ugly to boot.
A person controlling to the point that you start to feel your own beliefs are invaluable. Whether it’s religion, politics, or what flavor ice cream is better, society has a habit of ranking ignorance before individuality.
He was a tyrant. Tall, stately, soaked in shadow and looming over everyone; his long hair cascaded down to his hips like an ink waterfall, golden eyes gleaming with wicked thirst for blood and chaos.
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
tyrantosaurus rex
Tyrant.
Bossy. Doesn’t listen to anyone.
Misunderstood.
Good intentions.
passionate but too powerful.
Lonely.
Maybe angry.
Needs love…perhaps a pet.
The heart is the tyrant of us all. Logic is so simple; the mind offers the easiest answers; the path of least resistance is so often so very non-resistant. But dreams, love, lust, passion, fury, hype, sweat, and the pull of her lips against the edge of your flesh captivate you, and you find yourself climbing mount everest, killing dragons, and even writing books of poetry, not for joy… but because the tyrant demands it.
The girl swung from his mothers arm as she meticulously balanced the lettuce she was putting in her trolly with the other. She knew that people watched. ‘why won’t you leave the wretch at home’ they’d be thinking.’ But they didn’t know what that would mean for her. So she let her hang, screaming, and carried on.
I am. I rule. I conquer, because I don’t know what else to do. It’s less a motivation from wanting to be on top than it is really an attempt to battle with boredom to end up winning.
Tyrants make one tyred with all their constant moaning and general grumpiness. That’s what I think, anyway.
I may be the tyrant or I may be the victim of a tyrant…or both! God will reveal the truth of His will for me this year. Jesus is my example for dealing with a tyrant, and Paul is my example of God’s power to change a tyrant. All for His glory and to further His Kingdom!! Amen, amen!!
I already did this word late last night. Tyrant. Who wants to be one? Who wants to live with one? Not me, that’s for sure. It feels like a big, Goliath of a word. Hard. Bully. Big and overpowering. How about trying on leader? Or love? Something softer? Kinder? Less bully?
One who rules ruthlessly, with bitterness, and hatred, without love to those serving under him.
I dreamt of a tyrant last night. We were rebelling, my family and me, and I knew it was fruitless. The futility of it made it a nightmare. They were brutal and stealing trains to kill. They were definitely planning to kill.
He lorded over
All of them, except for one
She refused to kneel
Tired
He strutted about the room, a little Hitler, owning his parents every atom and knowing it. She, a teenage babysitter, wasn’t prepared to battle a regime. She really just wanted to make $30 and watch cable when he went to bed. That’s not how the evening went. At all.
Someone who terrorizes and abuses others with no sense of remorse, care, compassion…no sense of humanity and they only have a desire for selfish gain.
Pansy Parkinson was completely in her domain. This was her kingdom and these were her puppets. Who cared if they called her a tyrant? She flicked her hair back and stared down at the weak, pathetic Hufflepuff girl.
“I-I didn’t mean to,” the girl whimpered, cowering in her shoes.
Pansy smirked, her cold eyes piercing the girl’s heart. “I’m afraid sorry doesn’t cut it.”
the tyrant lies within, demanding autonomy, freedom, always wanting more and more, refusing other considerations, other points of view, pressing, pressing inward and refusing the outward.
tyrant is as tyrant does – literally. it is in the heart and the actions. It is in the dragging rather than the inspiring. it is in fear rather than love. tyrant is in the rant that we tire of. that was clever actually. not a bad minute. well done you!
He yells at you all day long.
Tells you what you have done wrong and what you have to do now.
A tyrant can be a real pain in the neck.
hitler also the hunger games. president coin in the hunger games talked about tyranny and yet she was a tyrant which if you think about it is classic tyrants. tyrants are petty and insecure and feel the need to impose their power on others because they are afraid.
Everyone who knew the president on a personal level understood that she was no tyrant; she was simply attempting to maintain order in a society that was crumbling apart like stale bread. Yet the accusations stained the newspapers and magazines on a daily basis: Tyrant, Dictator, Megalomaniac. Yet President Sardonna would not let any of the vitriol get to her when she had a job to do.
Controlling, overbearing, overruling. Like a parent needing to micromanage every aspect of a child’s life, grasping to the tiniest of details. Like Metatron micro managing the events leading up to the angels fall.
Not listening or obeying, mean spirited, evil child like, raging.
You yell and scream and call names. Demand your way. Dig deep. Push on the bruised spots. Making the blue purple. Sometimes it fades to green but then you start again. layers of colour. Pretty in a rainbow but not a human. I used to love you.
my hands are tied… i want to break free. i dream…
He was a tyrant
Not a mean one
Not a political one
A tyrant in the sense that he took over my life
Demanding to be in my thoughts at all times
Wishing to be there
And i disappeared while he stayed strong
I became him and only him
Maybe that’s because that’s what I wanted
I wanted to be small and disappear
And he did that for me
But I eventually rose from the ashes
Bull-dowsed the devastation and him
I rebuilt myself
Strong
Happy
And finally there
What is a tyrant? I mean, who decides who there is a tyrant, and who isn’t? Maybe you think a person is acting like a tyrant, but what make you decide if that is right or wrong? Who had the power to decide what there is right and what there is wrong? Who am i to say that you are acting like a tyrant? And aren’t we all acting like tyrans sometimes?
Tyrant is a rebel. Doesn’t get along with anyone or anything. Causes trouble. Likes to cause confrontation but says nothing.
Going through the world just with the mentallity of making other people miserable doesn’t make you “just a bad person” or a “person with bad intentions towards others”.
No, you fucker, it makes you a tyrant. A tyrant isn’t only a guy that lived thousands of years ago going through wars a killing people to survive. You are also like that in this century. You kill other peoples’ dreams just so you can, in a fucked up way, survive.
I can be a tyrant. Doling out orders but in my head I’m being to the point. To others i guess it’s just bossy. I’m not bossy and would they say the same to a man. Probably not. One may see a trysnt I see an outspoken woman.
The bleak night crept up on her as she stormed through the deserted castle. She felt the dark seep into her bones and her fear turned into an audible cackle in her head, as she slithered toward the tyrant.
His mother, a tyrant, would hover over him while he practiced his multiplication tables, “9×9 is…81?”. She would scold him and wrap his knuckles if he got the answer wrong, even harder when he used his fingers to count.
A tyrant is not very nice. He will be a bad person and do bad things to people. We should not become tyrants but be nice people. We should make tyrants be nice people too so the world will be a better place.
Rebellion is a craved emotion for most, if not all of us. For some, they have yet to discover this intriguing sense of wonder in opposing norms and going against conventions. When they finally find that ecstacy, their unique and unparalleled version of weed, they will create the most hineous crimes.
Tyrants are bad people, they only care about their own agenda, they don’t consider anyone else’s well-being, they dominate, they are selfish, they take advantage of others, and I avoid them.
The blood stained eyes of the tyrant looked insidiously at the crowd before him; the screams of the execution rang heavy in the air, long after they took his body away.
The woman was an absolute horror. She had the hair of a mutant orange, and the soul of a reanimated cadaver. Nothing in her house could be out of place, or the whole neighborhood would hear about it. She was mean, nasty, and ugly to boot.
Definition
A person controlling to the point that you start to feel your own beliefs are invaluable. Whether it’s religion, politics, or what flavor ice cream is better, society has a habit of ranking ignorance before individuality.