Pardon me for being so crass
but speaking God’s word is not a crime last I asked.

People hatin’ gays is wrong
you won’t hear hate of gays in any hymn song.
And yet I feel like the world believes that it’s so,
that they hate what I say but don’t really know.
Hell even the government keeps prayer
from the rooms that they preach in.
while they tell me how I should think
and what I should say’s sin.

Maybe the world has come to a place in time
where being a christian is seen as a crime in mind,
So how long will it be before it’s a crime to be me?
and the world that I thought was a way that could be
just fine with the words that I pray on my knees,
makes it a crime
to say what’s in mind

that I love every person that ever had ***
with the same kind of gender that at first they where set.
That while I hate all the sin they live in there lives,
that it’s this and not the person I despise,
but the fact that they actively seek to attack
the beliefs that I hold in my heart, that they lack.

That if you’d accept the gift of Christ of forgiveness for your sin,
you might see a way for a knew life to begin.

But instead I’m told I’m a hater and ignorant,
while everyone missus the truth of the argument.
That it’s not the man or the women I hate
but the lust in their life by themselves they can’t sate.

So if what’s seen in my heart is spoken as truth
and seen by the government and most of the youth
as being a hate speech or some sort of lie,
as if I had said I’d wish they would die.

Well thank God it’s not a crime to rhyme,
Thank God the reward is mine.
I pray to God it’s close to the time.
I’m tired of living with the blind.

Imagine there's no evil
It's easy if you try
No sin between us
Above us more then sky
Imagine all the people
Living to obey...
Imagine there's no Muslims
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to **** or die for
And no apostasy too
Imagine all the people
Living for the Lord...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join Jesus
And the world will be as one
Imagine no transgressions
I wonder if you can
No sight of greed or ******
The salvation of man
Imagine all the people
Living in the word...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join Jesus
And the world will live as one

Knowledge is to know what to say. But wisdom is knowing when to say it

At night I sleep,
my mind travels to distant universes,
my mind expands, my body shudders,
like flying while laying down or crying while laughing.

Thoughts so profound and mysterious invade my mind,
echoed words I never spoke.

my soul yearns to be free,
bound in this wretched vessel,
like sunlight seen but not felt.

my wings cut off from those foreign strings of reality called dreams,
the night laughs, in the morning I cry.

Your Beauty reflects the flowers for which you sup and sip,
and every single beat of wing a mesmerizing quip.

Like a graceful dancer or a summer breeze,
the beauty of the butter fly brings my soul to sing.

blisteringly cold, blindingly bright, beautifully bountiful,  snow drift white.
I stand in the snow freezing my toe.

Blackened bouncing baby bunnies burning brightly,
burdened by boils,
bleating bleakly,
but blessed by blindness,
brings bliss beyond beauty.

The  truth is ugly sometimes. But that is why God gave us ears.

A horse fell and broke it's leg.

Everyone is gonna be happy / be happy
you're gonna make me so happy / so happy

My sins didn't hold
By sin I'm no more sold
you're poring into me
you're forgiving as can be
the line was formed with red
By your son who rose from the dead
you've taken sin away
i'm fine, so fine this day

your hands have warmed my soul
unlike the sin that was a part
the hole you fill so comfortably
but now i'm pouring out my heart
i will make room i'll empty out
i'll tell my sins to you about
i'll change my everything for you
just keep on doing what you do

Why does Sour Lemon shrug?

Sour Lemon thinks your sour lemons stink.
Why does Sour Lemon think your sour lemons stink?
Sour Lemon shrugs while Sour Lemon thinks.

Oatmale is guy with good taste. though some would call him mushy, I think he is rather hardy.

Cowliflower plays moosic, though some think she is a gas, I think she's milking it.

My swashbuckling heart, she lost her boot,
it fell in the ocean by old Port Toot.
My heart she does wander forever at sea,
never again a respite for me.

The puppet's second awakening is a knight of crusading, evils boots I bet are quaking, especially when his sword starts shaking.
Though made of wood he's hardly bored, he's killing all the little lords. Royalties high but he'll bring them low with one fell swoop and mighty blow.
Arrows cut but they don't dry, fires good but you just try. He's got a shield it's good for blocking, you better be ready when he comes knocking.
All in all he's quite the lad, made of wood and iron clad. And with his holy cross of might he'll slay all evil in his sight.

You cant teach a puppet, nor can a puppet honer you. God teaches those that are willing to learn; Satan plays with puppets.

The fur upon it's shoulders, the maw upon it's head, the claws upon it's hands are surely to be dread.
Your darkest single nightmare. . .
and your sickest single thought . . .
cannot compare in truth to what man and beast has wrought.

Said too much, said much too many times, time and again it was said, that too much it was said.
People heard it one too many times, too many times it was heard, many times was it heard too much.
Too much was it used, it was used too much, . . . I have heard that it has been said to be used too much.

Psychic spies from Manhattan
Try to steal your mind's elation
Little fillies from Appleloosa
Dream of silver screen quotations
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Aliicornication

It's the edge of the world
And all of Equestrian civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in a final location
It's understood that Canterlot
sells Aliicornication.

Pay your Princess very well
To break the spell of aging
Celestia skin is this your wings
Or is that war your waging

Chorus:
First born unicorn
******* than sorin'
Dream of Aliicornication
Dream of Aliicornication

Marry me Mare be my Alicorn to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage liaison with a baby dragon
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Aliicornication

Alicorns may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Canterlot basement
Twilight can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off history to history
And Starswirl's not far away
It's Aliicornication

Born and raised by those who praise
Control of suns rotation everypony's been there before
And I don't mean on vacation

Chorus

Magic leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And an alicorn from a unicorn
It's just another good coronation
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Aliicornication

Pay your princess very well
To break the spell of aging
Smarter than the rest
There is no test
But wings is what you're craving.

Dad I want you to know that I'll always still love you and even when your mad I'll still want to hug you.
You've come quite far in your 50 or so years, from drunkard to Christian overcoming my fears.

And in all of that time not ever did once, I ever say I hate you or that you're a dunce;
for though you were rude and nasty and mean and a pain in the *** like I've never quite seen, you've raised a great son who still loves his dad,
through all of the good and through all of the bad.
I love you dad, keep on being awesome.

My country tis of thee,
sweet land of bravery,
of thee I sing.
Land where the heroic died,
land of the firemens pride,
From every building side
let remembrance bring.

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love.
I love thy men in blue,
Thy medics and firemen too
My heart with sadness through.
From that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
For remembrance sing.
Let sleeping hearts awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let mouths their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Our father's God to, Thee,
Author of chivalry,
To Thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King!

What shall I compare thee to apple of my eye?
A bird does not do thee justice or truth.
You are more beautiful than a blue sky.
A women whose love I wish to sleuth.

A girl of soft voice and wide pleasant eyes
Who if looked but once on me I would faint
But a smile from you would bring me to rise
Who could ever look at you and speak plaint?

To look at you is better than flying,
When I see you my heart soars to new heights.
Anyone who says otherwise is lying.
You are more  to me then a pretty sight.

I know that you are short of  words and shy.
But I love you more than I can say why.

love is just two people who have learned to accept each others faults. True love is when those two people realise the other has done the same

The highest place a man can be is in the word or on his knee..
For there the spirit of God dwells, and by your efforts you as well.
What a site it is to see when down on ground with bended knee.
Or in the word so bright and bold, seeing how your soul was sold.
Praying for your friends far lost or reading of who died on the cross.
Up on the words God wrote for you, Up on the prayers you say for true.
High on the rock of Calvary, there the highest heights man can be.

The deepest cave,. the most explored and yet most unknown place man has never been and yet owns a little part of.
A place that can be stolen, and yet often it is given to the thief by the owner.
Their are riches here, and garbage, and scars, and yes even evil but some good as well.
Who can know it's depths?
who can plunder it's riches?
Many have sought an answer, many have looked hard and asked many a question and yet for all it's effort; their own hearts failed them.
How can someone know such a cave if it changes course from day to day? And yet it is often harder to change it.
What contradictions it is, what conundrums, what beauty and terror and fire and passion and ice and wind and rain and fury!

What am I?
I am all these;
I am the still of the night, the bright of the day,
the fear of the fight, the fight of the fray.
I am the center of the mind,
I am one of a kind.

There I sat . though I guess it was more of a squat. I contemplated letting it go, and trust me I tried, boy did I try to let it go. But it was stuck on me.
It was  like one of those horror movies where you split up from the group and the first one to get naked gets killed. Only I was just trying to take a ****.

I wake up every morning. I open the a small wooden box containing the precious substance needed for the ritual.  Carefully I measure out the sacred plant into it's proper vessel. I pour clear and filtered water into the basin. I wait patiently for the water to steep through the plant forming a wicked and dark fluid. I poor it into a earthen glass. I sip it, I love the taste of the bitter substance as it washes over my tongue; it's smell enveloping my mind and filling my head with a buzz.
I always make sure to prepare it dark as the void and black as the night.
Over the course of an hour I slowly sip the dark liquid until at last it is finished. I can feel it's dark power flowing through me and giving me strength.
. . .Oh how I love my morning coffee.

Who can fathom the thoughts of the moon as it sit's in the sky on a hot afternoon?

Or the lovers quarrel  of the sea on the shore? or a river who's banks have flooded the moor?

Or the voice of stars  as  they fall from the sky; do they laugh or do they cry?

Who can understand the mind of a dog, or the chicken or hen or the old barn hog?

Only the mind of a poet who thinks like a shroom,
Who breaths the fire of flowers without bloom.

Try this offer from natures boon.
Just relax and you'll understand soon.

Then take a walk through the woods and ask the trees,
for they have more secrets then they have leaves.

The story of The Viper and The Mountain, is a sad tale to tell,
but it's really quite a story so listen very well.

There The Mountain was, armor clad and tall.
Before him many men had stood, but every one did fall.
But then a Viper came a calling.
"revenge" he said "revenge"
for the mountain had slew his sister, it was her he meant to avenge.

The Viper stabbed the The Mountains sore, right in his mighty chest.
and so The Mountain fell like any other wall of flesh.

The Viper was a quick man, though not quite that wise,  so blind was he by revenge The Mountain caught him by surprise.
The Mountain grabbed The Viper's head, and crushed it like a grape,
And so it was The Viper died, never to avenge his sisters ****.

A sad song to be sure, a gruesome tale indeed,
so lets raise our glasses high and forget it over mead.

The south wind blows gentle,
June winds I long for have come.
the suns heat is soft

A tempest strung like so many small sick men, would never hold water,
were the eyes of ants to open,
and the mouths of the dead to speak.

Yet find, I dare you!
one person bigger then a mote,

and I will show you more ants
then can be counted.

It is not for lack of men and women with a tree amongst the bones of the chest that keep birds from singing;
but the greater number of def lambs and earless worms.

A word can be spoken in a white castle,
set on a mountain made of sand,
through a billion
empty
windows


and they call it truth.

And yet,
at the bottom of the largest ocean man has made,
these words ring truer,
yet more silent,
then where all men must go.

Your glistening skin,
the soft of your kiss,
the eye's of a goddess who's smile I do miss.


Your masterful skill,
the strength of your arm,
the path you chose to keep people from harm.

Wake me my dear, come safely home,
wake me my dear from being alone.

Wherever you go . . .
Wherever you are . .
Know my dear lady; that my love is not far. . .

When bullets are flying, my prayers do too.
When bombs are falling, I'm praying for you.
When the suns heat seems too hard to bare;
know this my love I wish I was their.

Though I am safe, and though I am home,
I'm lost and afraid, and so very alone.
I pray for you daily, I pray for you nightly,
And when dreams come it's of holding you tightly.

Come home safely for my sake.
Wake me from this dream of being awake.

Action may speak louder then words but words can inspire action.
I wonder which is more powerful?
I say words; for words can be spoken by the weak to defeat the strong, the happy to lift up the sad  
But no one ever heard of the week overcoming the strong by strength alone  nor the sword bring happiness to the sad.
But then again is not speaking an action? sometimes speaking out is the hardest thing . . .

Rocks; these are my rocks.
Sediments: make me sedimental.
Smooth and round, asleep in the ground.
Shades of brown and gray abound.
~Maud Pie

The cold water falls, but don't mind it.
Life it hard enough without worry of rain,
Out of that sky also shines sunny days,
Look at the ground, it is still there.
That sunny sky is just over that hill.

Happiness is yours, It can not be given unless you want to share it, it can not be received unless you let it into your life.
But remember this above all else, happiness can still be taken from you. . .
So then let your Joy be in the lord . . .
for no one can take The lord from you nor you from the Lord.

Beware ye evil the day the sun doth sees to shine, for Celestia comes in glory divine.
cloth in fiery burning raiment, full of wrath for evils payment,
eyes once kind now full of coal...death and sorrow and woe.
Her wings once soft and gentle, now lack all things sentimental.
better would it be for evil in that day to have it's own life ended
than to find out just how hot the sun can be when focused though the horn of a goddess offended.

Dear sister,

Your words are like honey poisoned with wormwood - sweet to the ear, but bitter in the end. I'd smite thee in thy breast were it that you had a heart; you may raise the sun but your veins are full of ice, you may be a goddess but you are more like a devil, your coat may be white but inside you are as black as sin. This prison you have sent me to may be dark and cold... but not as dark or as cold as you.

~Princess Luna

a song sung soulfully,
for souls saddened severely,
can sooth such sickness,
and sate such sadness,
that saddened souls sing,
a sweeter sounding song.

Though thy teeth be sharp, and thy claws great, waste not thy strength on me,
for thy beauty doth pierce mine heart worse than any wound.

Do not waste thy breath upon me, for I burn already a passion far greater than I can bear.

Oh dragon, hold back not thine beauty from mine eyes any longer, spread thy wings for me, let me see thy grace, thy majesty, thy glory complete!

Though thy scales turn away the sword, they cannot turn away my love for thee.
Though thy wings block the sun, they cannot block mine thoughts so bright of thee.
Though thine eyes stare death, I . . .only have eyes . . . for thee.

A persons greatest enemy is his mouth, but there is no sharper sword than the tongue. Master it and it will be your greatest ally

She held the flower stiffly, watching the petals fall away one by one.
Her mother. her father. her friends. all of them left this little flower.
Now all that's left is a thorny stick unwanted and useless.
Don't bother picking it up it will only ***** you.
It's fragrance is gone . . .
Leave it there . . . everyone else did.

This was not his home, but He loved it like it was.
He had no hooves though he fought like a Stallion.
He had no claws, though he fought like a griffin.
He had no Scales, though he fought like a dragon,
and though he had no wings he rose above all.

May he rest in peace..

Hope is a myth.

To live is to die, to die is to die, there is no hope.

I see the world ashen, aflame, burned, scorched, molten, squelched.
My soul thirst for that which is right; it cries out for goodness, is weeps for justice!
The world mourns the dead, I mourn the world.
All my rising is a burden, better had it been if I was never born than to witness the destruction of the world I came into.
Life is an unending road of burning tires and weeping mothers. All my hope is turned to despair.

P is for pony F is for friends, but M is for magic where fun never ends.

why is this pony wearing a dress, why is she singing that friendship is best?

Just watch them dance and sing and fly, some ponies have wings and some are quite shy.

why I once saw a pony so colorful and cool, she beat up a dragon with hind hoofs and a stool.

but in all of Equestria there stands one above the rest, her name is Twilight Sparkle and she's simply the best.

Oh my mistress of the night,
I am but a dog upon your site,
oh my mistress wont you walk me? beat me raw when I am naughty?

Your hair is long and full of stars,
pleas share them with me, choke me hard.
Bow wow I say when I am cuffed, Oh Luna my dear I like it woof.

Snap your whip and make me swoon
make me howl up at your moon
but if I've howled unto your liking, let me mount you like a viking.

I'm bad, I'm a devilishly slimy man,
with wicked and vile intentions,
and a infernal and hellish plan.

Corruptive and pervasive, and all together sick,
unholy and despicable with ugly hellish wit.

A genius in sheep's clothing, a devil in disguise,
my words are sweet as honey but I'm planning your demise.

You'll never see it coming, in your mind I'm your best friend,
like adding sugar to a meal, it'll taste sweeter in the end.

I'll see your face in shock,
that I would have stabbed you so,
I'll grin a evil grin and stare into your soul.

your blood will spit and spurt,
and I'll watch it with such glee,
and all the while you'll know
it was all because of me.

you'll finally breathe your last,
it will fill me with such joy;
to know that you never knew
that you were simply just my toy.

Silly little bird,
I see you leap and play.

I wish that I could soar,
the way you do so gay.

I see you in the sky,
I watch you as you sway,
like a gentle lover,
upon the breeze you stay.

I wish that I could fly,
the way I see you do.

if only I had wings,
I'd leap and fly like you.

For now I'm just content,
to listen to you coo,
and dream of flying high,
way up there in the blue.

As I **** this cigarette
my life go's up in smoke,
in clouds of gray and white
some day I'll die of stroke.

If only I would quit
this habit that I have,
my lungs would never rot
all cancerous and scabbed.

And though I know this all,
to my love I still return,
for nicotine I crave for nicotine I yearn.

Take this poem to heart,
and let thy cigarette go,
for dieing of lung cancer
is the slowest death I know.