Love is a strong thing,
Mothers labour for it,
Men take the heat,
It defines the human...being.
5 million angels of God with a shortage of love
10 million small feet without a heaven to call their own
orphans of a lost war, children of hunger and distress
the loving nest in their parents arms got blown to shreds.
So they suffer, innocent souls that have no were to hide
in tears of pain, in between heaven and hell Muhammed walks
in a drone strike a child’s future in the last thing on anyone’s minds
Every day war mongers cultivate the future enemies of this land.
Suffer the little children, the infants, the school kids, the toddlers
In the hot desert sand burn and riddled with bullets lie their rotting corpses
their small eyes staring blank into infinity and no one dares to close them
sleeping on ravaged streets barely out of their strollers.
Wish I could send my useless hands to heal their wounds
the American invasion of Iraq became their tombs.
Suffer the little children in sulfur
victims of greed, lust for power and oil
pray to Allah every night to care for them
children without a future, victims of a war they didn’t deserve.
And so they suffer.
There is this thing
in the night.
It grabs a hold
won't let me go...
It hates me.
It tells me why.
It tells me how.
I am so afraid.
How can I not be?
When there is nothing but this
in the darkness
in the night
cold from the inside out
from the thing that has a hold of me
What is it?
What is it called?
What is it's name?
It doesn't tell me..
It fills me with fear,
It holds me captive,
I cannot escape.
I am always alone when it comes.
Always helpless against it.
It comes when I least expect it.
When I have almost forgotten,
pushed the memories away
I though I was protected.
I thought it was gone.
And then it came.
Alone this time,
after so long, it had lost the power to bring others
It brought the fear,
it brought the ice
curled alone on the bed,
Unable to speak,
unable to move,
barely able to breath.
'Why? Why now? Please, please not here. Not now.'
I pleaded, knowing my cries fell on sadistic ears,
that reveled in my pain.
It didn't matter.
I didn't matter.
I put on my best:
A metal vest.
Is the only thing I hear as of late.
Touch feels like fire.
And I am nothing but a cheap liar.
Put your best tricks on the table
I'll ignore my suspicion if I am able.
Mom was never mom.
Weakness was never weakness.
You were never you.
And we argue, is it green or blue?
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all
another year older
but it feels as if a life time has passed since i last stood in this place
my face hasn't aged
there isn't a damn thing that stays the same
the boys are going grey
the girls have all run away
and those who haven't
stayed behind to master the art of procreation
we haven't been bright eyed kids
for quite some time now
we cry now
twice as often
and thrice as sly
our eyes stay dry in the daylight
for the sake of acting strong for those we love
but we'd love nothing more to unwind
to hide behind the curtains
and watch our sorrows flow downward
forever pirouetting towards the sea
happy birthday to me
birthday cake taste like a musty wake
when layered with day-old whiskey breath
and somber advice for the future
shared by older souls
my best-dressed celebration turned death-day contemplation by the ill-fated sands of time
i'm getting way too old for this shit
The only legend I ever loved is the story of a daughter lost in hell and found and rescued there. The best thing about this legend is I can enter anywhere.
Later I walked in a summer twilight searching for my daughter all the time. Winter was in store for every leaf and about time to fall off all the trees.
It is winter and stars are hidden. As I walk up the stairs I can see my child sleeping besides her magazines and a plate with uncut fruit, the pomegranate. She could have come home and been safe and ended the story of all.
Our heart broken searching but she reached out her hand and plucked a pomegranate. In the place of death at the heart of legend full of tears. The legend will be hers as well as mine, she will enter it.
She will wake up. She will hold the papery flashed skin in her hand and all I can say is nothing.
Your stomach turning
Your heart racing
Finally knowing that one of your dreams came true
You find someone that describes you dream guy
Someone you've already known
But the thing is...
He's one of your best friends and you don't want to screw anything up
You already have someone that makes you happy
And he does as well
But you both can't help having a crush on each other
He's so sweet, funny, smart, open-minded
You know you can go on forever describing him
You feel yourself around him
Not hiding secrets or anything
He's just hiding his face cause he's shy, you think its completely adorable
A product of an given environment.
A democracy being ran by tyrants
A offer of change..
Jesus Christ is hiring
Spiritually jobless cause the worlds firing..
Only thing worst is death and that fire pit..
But my Lord is a fireman..
With living water..
For you that fire could be a mist..
But know that hell is not a myth..
Know that heaven is at hand come on take sip..
Matter of fact take a gulp.
My Christ the sacrifice his blood
Overflows like a flood...
Talking oceans beyond a gulf..
Move mountains he can swift a coast..
Strength of the uttermost..
My stewardable host..
Came down to earth yes he left his post..
Just to have his flesh left on a post..
A passion that no other being could
the True definition of compassion..
He took on all our sin Nothing was rationed ...
His beard striped off..
His bones exposed..
His feet n hands left with holes..
Yes beaten to his skeletal system no x-ray was needed..
Not one fracture..
He took it all for us our true Master.
Damaged beyond human appearance..
How can u not be down in allegiance
With the Christ of this World
The only being to embody all that is right in this World..
Yet we hold on to darkness like he not the light to this World..
He died for us Yes he fought the good fight for this World..
We are to be his bride
Yes the church but Look at us yet he still won't pick another girl..
We cheat on him..
Our selfish desires
We beat on him..
Oh how we conspire..
To destroy the truth..
Yet we need to cling to it like Ruth..
Did to Naomi..
And react better when rebuke by a pony..
Stop dancing around the truth like its going to result in a Tony ..
Too many people are phoney
Randomly comprised like what resides in bologna
I am down with Christ .. Geronimo
See the signs of his coming its almost time to go...
A child stood and said racist comments and names.
While many adults never said a single thing.
A few laugh and giggle.
But it's inherited.
And most of the times from the parents that's a bigot.
An adult spoke of hatred like it was a badge of honor.
And many listen quietly.
While not protesting against it.
Was it fear?
Or silently agreeing.
A minister of the word stood before a congregation.
And addressed exactly, what's wrong with these situation.
That seems to be affecting all races in the nation.
Yes, a few walked out.
The truth hurts when it touches a nerve inside.
For us Jesus rose.
For us Jesus also died.
The truth hurts when it touches upon a nerve.
The minister faced protesters against his preaching.
But so do many good teachers.
But all stupidity is.
Even amongst us that's not bigots.
For a silence voice is a supporter of a fool.
Who let others dictates the rules?
But it's inherited.
Just like love.
Which should lie within all of us.