I Have Nothing

There are 17 comments on the The Daily Beast story from Apr 29, 2012, titled I Have Nothing. In it, The Daily Beast reports that:

In her final flight back home, singer Whitney Houston should have been surrounded by those who truly loved and cared for her.

Join the discussion below, or Read more at The Daily Beast.

White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#1 Apr 29, 2012
The flat of nose barbarian,
Planet of the ape beast,
Bow to the feet,
Of the superior white lion,
The rope tight,
And burning around their throats,
As the needles go in,
The leather skinned breasts,
The disgusting stink of their tails,
The cross stands tall,
Towards the cloaded skies,
The theatre of death
Under watchful electric eyes,
The grand hooded falcon
In the mountain of orion,
Repent thy wicked demons of sloth and lard,
The holy kingdom of paradise shall be reborn again.
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#2 Apr 29, 2012
The remains,
Of the repulsive barbarian sloth,
Her rotted mouth of ape dung,
The suck hole of slimey fish lip,
The hole,
In her infected honker,
of post nasal drip,
Down the hatch of warm, deep puckered lips,
The white lion force down her bobbling head,
As her wet hair fell out,
By the blades of steel,
Chanting to the holy cross,
In the forest of plums,
The hooded eyes,
Light the darkness with the fire,
Generations of the new order,
Of saints and knights,
In the halls of electricity,
Of industry triumph,
Her breasts removed before her death,
Eyelids clipped exposing clouded eyes of a toad...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#3 Apr 30, 2012
The death,
Of sloth and oily lard,
The bugs,
On the brown toad,
Crawling on bones of dust,
The crippling dribble,
Of dead barbarian,
Her deformed shell taken out,
In a table cloth,
The room in cocaine hotel,
Apes scattering,
In the gunfire of the white lion,
Her organs removed,
For the pleasure of superiority,
The infectious quest,
For the tinted bloodstone,
Rain must fall,
In the garden of the hooded saints,
For the killing of arthritis,
Of the souls of the filthy beasts.
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#4 Jun 3, 2012
Shuttered in barbarian ghetto crack houses,
The sloth bought her cocaine with stolen funds,
She was given millions for so little in return,
The dying recording industry hired the brave white lion,
We followed the bimbo, we made keys to her room,
We twisted her black fingers and toes in the hot tub,
We bent her arms and her legs went over her head,
She screamed as we shoved the cloth down her throat,
We took turns with her snatch, all battered and torn,
We sliced up dark chicken breast and oily lard,
We held her beaten face under the boiling water steam,
Choked the filthy barbarian like caught flopping fish,
We poured the pure white cocaine down her flat honker...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#5 Jun 8, 2012
The darkness in the tortured lost souls,
The hung barbarians from the oak trees of death,
Their dry open mouths, their eyes rolled back,
The spittle of their filthy puked up fried chicken,
The burning rope and the chains around their feet,
Sliced, broken skin of ape blood and bones sticking out,
The flames of the tall southern cross burning in breeze,
The sweet smell of pig roast and white lion celebration,
A gathering of saints in the circle of the holy night,
White flowing robes and hooded eyes of grand dragons,
Torch of fire into the darkness of moonlight and peace,
The demons shall be driven from their burnt bodies,
The dead barbarians paying for their sins at the alter,
The tall, brave and free giants still standing proud,
The chants of holy devotion in the sands of timespace,
The filth of barbarian ghetto wiped clean through raids,
The promised words of truth and the rising of faith,
The lands of a new paradise to the Heaven's locked gate,
The gallows of the strange fruited trees behind the sun,
We shall rise from the ashes of the grave of capricorn,
The mountain of orion in the clouded day of forgiveness.
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#6 Jun 8, 2012
The burnt hills of the slaughtered land,
The crosses of stone in the fields of graves,
The babarians laid to rest in wooden coffins,
Their bodies faced down...
She was stuffed in her hot box of lime,
Her black toes and fingers,
Curling with the worms,
The stink of dead skin,
And crawling beetles with wings,
Her eye holes stuffed with maggot filling,
The rats scattering,
In the fresh soil of fish oil,
Alfo sheen heads pulled out,
From the fruited plums,
The dead scalp,
Of dried out tight pubic dolly curlies,
The trees of flesh,
And bone of shaven monkey torso,
In the evening of the celebration,
Of owls and hawks,
The white lion rides,
Through the forests of the moon,
The torches of flame held high...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#7 Jun 10, 2012
Eyes of death in the burnt hills of secret graves,
The bodies of dead fruit in the grounds of legends,
The history of truth in the promised lands across years,
The apes hanging from the trees, their mouths opened,
The gagging of twisted voices in the winds of yesterday,
Their twisted curled up fingers and toes in the breeze,
The smell of barbarian puke on the bark of maple wood,
Their broken necks looking down with dead glazed eyes,
The laughter of the proud white lions in the lily field,
The horses of thunder running on the beaten earth,
The armor and the blades of steel on their strong backs,
The torches of flame in the wild nights of celebration,
The hooded angels of destiny within...
Guiding thy sword as heads roll in bloody warpath,
The continued slaughter of the pigs degutted in orion,
Their hearts boiled in the pot of monkey soup and onion,
The burning crosses across the wicked drift and divide.
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#8 Jun 12, 2012
Hung like fresh fruit in plum fields,
The dead twisted bodies of the beaten apes,
The unholy smell of their skin hanging from bones,
Their butchered guts fallen on the victory grounds,
The mountain of the grand hooded soldiers rejoice,
Cutting the barbarian throat from ear to ear,
Dripping the flowing blood for the powerful dogs,
The scattered apes running from their vicious teeth,
Their snortin' wide noses flair from fear of death,
The eyes of the southern cross are watching...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#9 Jun 13, 2012
Beaten and torn,
Her face buried to the ground,
Forced to slobber up the seed,
Licking it up with glee,
From the order of the hooded falcon,
Her body bent over for the thrust of power,
Her sweat, blood and tears from violation,
The smiles and laughter as she gobbled it down,
Her eyes bruised shut, her teeth knocked in,
Down the throat it goes with the bubbling spittle,
Her choked neck, her gagging puke.
Her chicken legs tied up over her pulled head,
Her broken nose, her drippling chin,
The last breath before she finally gave up,
The triumph of the secret entertainment industry...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#10 Jun 23, 2012
From the deep grave of slaughtered barbarian,
The link of the apes in the aggressive jungle,
The ghetto of filth and stolen identities,
The fire in the wind of non intelligence brain,
Her repulsive mouth packed with undignified flem,
Her wide of nose rotted from chicken snot and lard,
The stink of decomposing body odor in a meat box,
Her crushed fingers and toes grinded into dust,
Her glazed eyes taken from their sockets at death,
Staring blankly in the collected prize of jar,
Her body branded like cattle by the angels orion,
The spreading ashes of its epic destruction force,
The chains of the secret massacre of white lions.

Since: Jul 12

Los Angeles, CA

#11 Jul 10, 2012
I Have Nothing...
All At Once...
Run to You...
I Believe in You and Me...

White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#12 Aug 31, 2012
The barbarians in the forest of jungle trees,
Hung like strange plums in the hills of death,
Their twisted mouths drooling from their chins,
Their whipped backs scratched by the beatings,
Their flat of nose honkers no longer flaring,
The silence of their filthy squealing screams,
The rope hot around their broken necks of muscle,
Their dangling fungus toes chewed by the wolves,
The celebration of the burnt offering of skinned ape,
Their scalps woven for warmth in the frozen horizon,
The moaning of creeping death and laughter,
The hood falcon on horses of strong pride and power,
Slicing the surviving barbarian throat...
For they must not be allowed to breed with the bugs.
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#13 Oct 2, 2012
Oddities of frustrated,
Their hung dead heads,
Her eyes and honker,
Decaying from her bloody sockets,
The swinging branches of the gutless,
Their small retarded brains,
The taste of special sauce,
Splattering on the fruited plums,
The beaten millionaire,
Humped and pumped with powerful fist,
Her blood fat lip chapped and split,
The fierce denial of raging ape on cut knuckle,
Feet chained in the cages of a high rise prison,
The therapy of aggression and definition,
The hooded riding on the wind with wheels of fire,
Some barbarian heads are gonna roll with triumph,
The powerful proud White Lion of the grand Orion,
The mountain of the high cloud of guiding force,
The twisted bodies burning in the roaring thunder,
Their shattered skulls rolling down the highway...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#14 Oct 4, 2012
The force of the fire breathing serpent,
Heavenly thumping horses running towards the sun,
The burnt forest in the mountains of Gib,
The bodies of the slaughtered barbarians,
Their tails twisted in the raging firestorm,
The stink of burning pork hung from the dead trees,
Their mouths open in the moment of death,
Fear in their eyes decaying in the melting heat,
The White Lion proudly sits on top of the throne,
Watching the scattering land of the deformed apes,
Their expanded honkers sucking up the gun powder,
Terror of pounding thunder of the blasted skies,
The smoke clouds of blood and flesh in the pits,
Knees, elbows and dangling feet piled high,
The hooded falcon flies with an electric eye,
Searching for signs of life...

Since: Oct 12

Location hidden

#15 Oct 5, 2012
nancyliu0522 wrote:
I Have Nothing...
All At Once...
Run to You...
I Believe in You and Me...
I like it!
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#16 Oct 26, 2012
Mind control,
The drooling barbarian,
Cross eyed retardation,
Cocaine up her infected honker,
Bobbling dark jiggling jugs,
Her twisted mouth open,
Her teeth knocked down her guzzling throat,
In the steam of death,
The Hooded of imported hand,
Held her screaming head underneath,
The needle driven into the arm of ape,
Her diarrhea gushing out from her rectum,
Sticking to the bottom of the boiling tub,
Her skin boiled like lobster, chicken and clam,
The pimples on her dried back of black forest ham,
Her pink palm of lotion and dribbling seed,
Stroking the snakes of brutal white knights,
Their hairy bellies jiggling in her bobbling skull,
The honorable death of a music industry hack...
White Lion

Schenectady, NY

#17 Oct 29, 2012
Planet of the dead apes,
Punished for their disgusting sexual sin,
Their leather made into clothing for warmth,
Brutally murdered by the wrath of Ka,
Their skin boiled like fresh lobster tail,
The celebration of their pulled out lizard tongues,
Their bobbling heads hung in the storm of branches,
Like fruited purple plums of juice in dark forest,
In the garden of Eden,
The falcons of everlasting paradise,
The Four Horsemen riding the endless cloudy skies,
Seeking the blazing sun of precious superiority,
The giants of men in the oncoming days of truth,
Their white hooded ropes of pure ivory and pearls,
The roar of triumph and the victory over darkness,
The sea frozen still in sheets of mirrored glass,
The apes scattering with terror under electric eye,
Gunned down by the winged angels of death,
The White Lion proudly stands on the mountain,
Its scent smelling the sweet flower of Jasmine...

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