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5. The End is No End
Never had I beheld such a morbid sight,
Even after all that had penetrated my vision,
And pierced the very innocence of my soul.
Before stood the arisen Gates of Hades,
And but a few steps was I from the source of opposition.
My knees then met the soil and ash that laid below me.
The eyes that had before surrounded me,
Came to once more encircle me…
I knew not the reason, nor did my curiosity overcome my fear.
The drums of my ears felt nothing but a deafening ring,
And every hair arose on the flesh of my arm in alarm.
A familiar presence came from behind me.
I turned my eyes to the Hooded Figure that had bestowed upon me this journey.
Without haste or hesitation, I spoke with my voice high,
"You said to not fear, yet what is this?!
I feel nothing but calamity flowing like scorching sand through my veins,
And my heart pounds like the hammers that forged this abomination before me!
What say you of this journey that has led me to these infamous doors?!"
To me did he attempt to
Only Time Will Tell
Only time will tell the stories which believe.
The marks of the bottom line are where fate deceive.
The script written as a preemptive strike,
Never read over, improve prevents the rewrite.
Where is she with her smile t light the way through this maze?
Back home, going through her own, counting the days.
With Him above and he below,
My fear to every stepping stone I do bestow.
Only time will tell the stories that I believe!
Only within this fallacy does faith in me not leave.
I beg, I beseech, I plead, I pray for my endless prayer to be heard.
Lest apathy overtakes me without a care...without a word.
The marks on the bottom line are where fate deceive...
So only time will tell me the stories which I believe.
The Subconscious Strive
Challenge this opposition before you,
as the very Kingdom of Heaven is at your back.
What know you of the sight of victory,
should you not even attempt to seek it out?
Pull your head out and swallow the sand.
kick up the dust beneath the liquid layer,
swim against the tide, ascend and ride the wind,
Journey only forward, beyond the grasp of defeat.
Take us beyond the firefight,
to the brittle outskirts,
upon the horizon,
where lies our origin.
Within memory is our future,
where made easy
is the heavier weight of the burden.
Plant the seeds for the new battlefield.
Make it our own, by conquer, by incline.
Push forward through the storm,
the floods that make the seed grow,
as there is no progression without conflict.
I close my eyes only to see such nightmare in mind...
The world aflame and by my ears the crackling embers
reincarnated back into the dust of my world.
Recycled through the air now filled with
The exhausted gasp of Death himself.
Hope dies cradled in his weary arms,
and even he weeps from empty eye sockets.
Yet upon the burial was a seed planted,
and before the overflowing wells of his empty eyes,
grew life within the barren womb of Gaia.
Down from the Throne did He come,
barring a comforting hold over Death,
and the waters of life to nurse to health,
His world in the making to come.
Reborn and re united was to be our realm.
From ash did man come,
as will my world reborn before my very eyes.
As never a means to an end was this destruction.
A world reborn, one day my own, to share with my fellow kind.
I open my eyes, only to see the dreams of god come true at last.
And what if for you I built a garden?
In there where we would know a private freedom,
The priceless peace without end,
And a patch of Heaven to cover the bruises of time.
There you would find all your dreams of us,
And then more to add as we go along,
Skimming carelessly over the grass…
Free without shame, hand in hand in love.
And what if I grew for you the flowers of all your favorite colors?
Blossomed and alive, their scent filling the air…
I would create a beating heart in its center,
A pond of warm stone, and a fountain to give it life.
I would lay with you in a hammock beneath the shade,
holding close the love that is my own,
feeling every beat of the happy heart,
and allowing my eyes to shut to let my senses roam.
All around would we here nothing but the song of nature,
And the passion of the connection between us…
Therein where we can recreate Eden with our hands,
Our laughter, our touch, our tears, our love…resonate
Long did I hold patience for this to come,
and the cliché cupid had at last found me.
As wherein our lips meet,
this living system of mine reminisces.
What memories have remained
in my forgetful storage continue
to serve my jaw the smiles
that you so know and adore...
For whatever reason, you chose me,
and pray I that God had a hand.
Though I deserve not a thing,
I receive beyond the expectations of my prayers.
Long did I await your arrival,
And I don't believe you were a second too soon.
Damnation is near to me it seems...
the heat of Hell, grows in a sweat on my brow.
I close my eyes, only to hear my chains
sing the song of my enslavement.
The motions that through I go,
Know me by the long face, And baggy eyes.
The walk to my Father, through a cold and endless storm,
rusting over the iron of my chains.
I fill the cup that in hand I carry, with the constant down pour,
quenching what thirst I can, only to carry on.
Only in the dark of the storm do I weep so that the tears will blend with the rain,
and the sniffing is blended by my shuffling feet.
The walk home in the rain, The dragging of my feet,
enslaved by their own motions...I am set up to be tested.
I don't even recall when the sun was consumed by this storm,
I have walked for as long as I can remember....
Good God, my Lord, my King so kind! Is this path where men do perish,
the path on which my chains are dragged?!
I mean no blasphemy to a pair of all hearing ears,
but I can only do so much to make hidden my obvio
The Journey of a Thousand Miles
"Lead us on to insomnia's end, Where solitude awaits our weary hearts.
The sustenance required to our souls lies
there in the arms of patience.
Assist us in our wake as prayer affects not our tired limbs upon this journey. These two of your flock die not, as time heals, yet the end of this is welcome. We beg of thee, calling out to the silence into
to which our faith is placed.
The path is dark with black fog of this nocturnal threat. Bring to us, light. As it is now that our dreams are what wither with time, even as they heal. Our exhaustion is only diverted for a short time
by the bond between us.
Pray we that our cries are heard, echoing through the confines to Heaven.
Let not a limit come from malicious source,
to this our angelic breed of passion."
"Right is my love as he suffers my pain by connection, yet where we go, we go together.
Though distance dwindles the pleasure,
the connection has only become longer.
Much I have to say before our Lord in regards to these two hea
Older Than Babylon
I sat there, at the edge of the peak of the growing mountain,
seeking the patience I had always lacked.
My dreams were older than Babylon,
Yet in the time that is now, I age.
I had walked the dashed line unaware of where it may lead.
Even it knew not the future with each added dash.
The naivety I know, cannot be undone, for where lies the knowledge I unknowingly seek out?
The tangent of my life's journey, irrelevant to the road once laid before my soul.
It is in the sleepless nights that my dreams find me most maliciously...
interrogating me as to my lack of persistence and pursuit.
And in my screams of the loss of sanity,
shot out the words of accusation to that accursed dashed line.
For it had found it's end here at the edge of the peak of my growing mountain.
It grew into the abyss of a night sky, and ominous was my anticipation.
The stars that as a child I had wished upon were closer than ever,
and they burned bright with suspicion.
Father GodI created people to need and love one another. That never changed, even when sin entered into the world. Yet in spite of my desire for loving harmony, families often make a mess of their relationship.
I warned David that his sin would cause problems within his family. Ultimately, after simmering and planning for two years, one of David's son killed the other in vengeance for their sister. If only they had sought me in the process...I love to help families secure and strengthen their bonds.
I believe in family. I believe in family so much that I'm building an eternal home for mine. Meanwhile, I'm right here in the midst of your earthly family-and my heart's desire is to help you come together in peace and mutual love. Just call on me for guidance. After all, I'm a Father. I want to help my children.
Stockholm's DollI'm so superficial and vain,
I glisten like plastic in the rain,
I tic and toc,
Just like a clock,
I move were you say,
So I am not in the way,
Orders move my gears,
You take away my fears,
When they look they see your doll,
There's no real me left at all,
I was broken a long time ago,
Stuffed in a box six feet below,
Beneath your harsh words and harsher fists,
Days tied up with rope burned wrists,
Nights I'd cry myself to sleep,
Now I obey without a peep,
I'm so perfect and vain,
My eyes glisten without the rain.
Angel TearsImagine a raindrop is an angel's tear
Falling from heaven on Gaia's mortal fear
Weeping in unity their children's lost soul
Heaven's pure spirit evil now doth control
Eden of rapture consumed by time's flow
A lost utopia where gluttony doth grow.
Alluring serpent's lair humans covet the bait
Devourer of truth so poisoned with hate
Innocence now lost in maelstrom of desire
Purity long blackened by greed's hungry fire
The spirit debased evil darkens the heart
The nefarious abductor tears the soul apart
The moment approaches the farmer shall reap
Love now eternal for faithful lost sheep
Gnashing of teeth those left in despair
Time now elapsed for repentance and prayer
Renounce the darkness and take gentle heed
Embrace the truth be the Lamb's seed
Can I Place My FaithCan I place my faith,
in this chair when I sit?
Can I place my faith,
and relax in it?
Can I trust in the sun?
Can I trust in the moon?
Can I depend on daylight to shine?
Can I trust the moon to glow?
If I go to the stop at the corner,
will the bus eventually come?
If I go to the bank,
will my money still be there?
Will the grocery store always be full?
Will Wal-Mart’s prices always be low?
Can I have faith in nature?
Can I put any trust in the world?
If people make a promise,
can I rely on them to keep their word?
I put faith in nature and the world.
I trust people at their word.
I put my faith in things from the world.
What about the One in heaven?
Can I have faith in God above?
Can I trust in His love?
Can I depend on the Lord of hosts?
Can I believe He is close?
Can I go to church and trust in Him?
Can I trust He’ll hear, even when my voice is thin?
Can I believe God is there?
Can I trust He heard my prayer?
Do I believe God rises the sun?
Is He there when I am
Oh AmericaReturn, Oh America, to the Lord God of Hosts
For your dark hearts became your downfall
Take words of remorse and return to the Lord
And say to Him,
“Forgive the sins of our hearts and receive us graciously
That we may offer the fruit of our words
The government cannot save us
We will no longer wage war
We will never again rise up as if we were gods
For in you those who are fatherless find compassion.”
He will hear your cry and reach out to you
His iron rod will spare you his wrath and turn to a silk blanket
The Lord will wrap you in his arms like a compassionate Father
And He will say,
“I will heal your waywardness and love you freely
For now my anger has turned away from you
I will be like the morning dew to America
She will grow and her splendor will once again be as an oak tree
And her fragrance as the California Redwoods
Those who walk in darkness will again rise
They will blossom like fragrant roses
Their bright light will shine forth and be renowned.
The JourneyI travelled down hot asphalt roads
Amused by sights I did not see:
Fragrant flowers and chirping birds
Cheerful laughter chiming with glee.
In many contraptions were people trapped;
In varying cages were they kept:
Enclosed, imprisoned, jailed - un-free;
Helmed in by thoughts, worries, and anxiety;
Anguished by life's uncertainty;
Prisoners of mind, of purse, of geography;
Confined behind locks without a key.
And yet escape could still be found;
From fetters and chains was I unbound -
Raised up and lifted from death's mound
By Hope and Love of great renown.
Enriched by blessings I did not deserve
With an abundance of love without reserve;
A drop of heaven on this parched Earth;
An immaculate gift of infinite worth:
Love, Joy, and Peace,
Kindness, and Faith,
Patience and Goodness,
Long-suffering, and Grace,
With bright countenance
And cheerful face
Came my hero - my savior -
The one true Lord
Whom all with renewed hearts adored.
Palm FrondsWhat I usually see on vacations
Has a deeper meaning that it serenely waves.
Victory. Triumph. Peace. Eternal Life. Immortality.
These words are silently floating upon
The same fronds
That were waved when
Jesus traveled into Jerusalem.
Though they did not know it,
But the common plants they waved
Were signaling the victory of more than politics.
Victory and Triumph over Death and Sin.
Eternal Life for those saved by Immortal Faith.
Peace for the souls with Him.
As I look up,
The fronds are happy.
Why wouldn't they be?
They hold greater meaning people don't notice
And patiently wave at the Prince who is riding on a donkey,
The RockThis is no rock.
This is a landslide
pulling others to the depths,
burying, not building up.
This is dust,
flying away with the wind,
too lost to guide,
too weak to stay.
This is jelly,
trembling and shaking,
unable to support,
unable to stand.
This is no rock.
The one You called Rock
is a trembling wreck,
in a silent alleyway.
The one You called Rock
has come crashing down,
is broken and lost
because he could not stand.
The one You called Rock
was a mistake.
you are never mistaken.
You keep your promises.
You will yet make
a rock out of me.
You saw this long ago
and yet you chose me -
For you do not choose
because of what we are
and you do not choose
because of what we can do.
You choose what is weak,
you choose what seems useless,
you choose and transform,
you transform even me.
This is no rock -
but the God of Wonders
can make it into one.
9 MonthsFor 9 months I carried you
I watched stretchmarks invade my flawless skin
Like aeroplane trails in the sky
I watched my stomach ever grow
Like a beautiful rose emerging from nowhere roots
Breathing normally became ambitious
And sleeping became a distant memory
As you kicked your tiny feet against your temporary home
To inadvertently let me know
Your cravings once again
9 months went and came far too quickly
Like day turns to night without a thought
And the highs and lows of pregnancy
Once again surfaced themselves
Just before you screamed your way into the world
A nervous wreck at the thought of being a mother
Was I going to be good enough to look after
The beautiful bundle that would become you?
But just like there is a rainbow after rain
I knew we too would survive the lows because of the highs
Seeing your daddy play with you, comfort you
Laugh with you and cry with you
I knew that you were a gift to be cherished
Loved like the evening summer sun
Treasured like the adorning winter Yu
Dreams on a Battlefield
Oh sweet sleep, take me away...
Away to the restless worlds
Of my subconscious wonderland.
Unhand me, reality...
let go and set me free.
From soul to psyche,
the visitation of my thoughts
To my warped imagination.
Where both angel and daemon,
Do visit me in my nightly coma
My memory fades from my grasp
with the cold sweat and opening of my eyes,
but I do know better as to the cause by effect.
my visitors wage war
within those restless lands.
As they are and have always been,
By dream or nightmare regardless am I
without doubt in the slightest,
intrigued by such evidence
and presence of the transcendent ones.
I know not the faces but the marks are left.
feathers in air, and hooves in earth.
Found in my perception,
blurred but far from blind,
They have long since fooled me...
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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