Collaboration with Alyssa Underwood!


I'm not getting much from life,
it makes me want to scream!
Won't achieve my smallest goal...

let alone my dreams!.

Your life's hidden in Christ's hands
and your competence comes from Him.
His Spirit's working His purpose in you...

despite how things may seem..

I'm frail and I'm weak,
I'm sorry. I'm not strong.
You say I can handle this test...

You couldn't be more wrong!.

Frailty's the best start
for watching our egos flee.
Once we know WE can't do it...

we begin to get set free..

I am sick and tired
of the daily drudge!
And fellow believers?

All they do is JUDGE!.

So lay it all down.
Jesus died to bear
the indomitable weight...

of every burden you wear..

Does God answer prayers?
I wonder if HE DOES!
If you go and backslide

He seems to hold a grudge!.

I find He answers differently
than what I might seek first,
for what's pleasant now...

May not fill my deepest thirst..

Alright. He makes us patient.
But I can believe the lies!
He has no provision

to make me savvy... WISE!.

If wisdom like the world
is what the soul most craves,
where's the contentment...

in those who are its slaves?

The believer is the candle
Jesus is the flame.
Thank you sister for your help...

I'm calling on His Name!

I will heed your sayings.
I have been absurd!
He's good to all His promises...

They're written in HIS WORD..

It's not absurd to question
or probe into our doubts.
HIS WORD can stand resistance...

through every skeptic's shouts.

We're here to help each other
find truth along the way.
JESUS IS THE WAY AND TRUTH

AND LIFE WE LIVE EACH DAY!


Alyssa Underwood  (the voice of Truth).
*SoulSurvivor  (the doubtful believer)

this house;
too dark, too quiet;
an unknown abyss.
tenants leave after six months;
running out screaming.

in this house,
*even the ghosts are haunted.

I thunk or did or said or thought or knew is
in the middle of a guitar string chord plucked
with a background rich of bass drum
the ****** of a cymbal the beautiful
voice of a beautiful band where beautiful
girls dance sensually writhing in tune  to
my heart throbbing a voice singing
as no instrument ever can
trembling my
everything
crying
samba
me

"they" say it's easier
to rip off the bandaid quickly
presumably because the pain
is so fleeting
but is it okay by "they"
if I scream my hurt
drawing out every syllable
loudly, complete with raging
spittle and seething emotions
throwing buried truths
into a stunned face
that can't wake up
or shape up, or shake off
shackles of an insanely lost
predisposed personality
Is it okay with "they"
to hurl obscenities
to those that have been defeated
in their own mind
"they" say to rip off the bandaid
quickly
but I've found, by doing that
the wound bleeds more profusely
and it's harder to heal
for the bandaid,
"they" reviled
was the only ******* thing
holding
the deepest cut together

I am a pirate
pacing a quarterdeck
before a battle.
I am Adam
beneath the apple tree
waiting to bite
into the New Order.
I am a hopeful heretic
praying for immolation
but unable
to strike a match.
I am a corpse
writing a will
in blood and *****.
I am a soldier
watching a friend
erupt in a fog
of pink viscera.
I am a madman
twitching on a couch,
forgotten in a corner
of a windowless chamber.
I am a hero
slaying griffins,
destroying dragons,
ravishing maidens
as my rightful reward.
I am a lover
to whom ladies
open their thighs
and abandon
their honor,
willingly.
I am a tone deaf poet
singing a defeated song.
I am the amateur torturer
carefully sharpening
his instruments,
but then unable to find
meaningful work.
I am a ****** priest
hearing my own
confession
and finding it
absurdly tedious.
I am all of these
impossible people.
Who are you?
  - mce

He wants her
naked upon an altar
wreathed in roses
so he can worship
her in every way
a human man
can imagine.

~mce