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Jamie King Mar 2016
I wonder if angels cry.
When the scent of fornication smothers the air
And guilt consumes the careless hands immersed in the jar of sordid men. When children kiss blades, painted in their brother's blood. Drinking their mothers tears as though a precious tea.

I wonder if they use handkerchiefs or let rivers rise, feeding from their eyes.
Dancing in birth of the innocent youth, glimmering with hope and prosperity.

I wonder, I wonder.
sympathy and tranquillity form my perspective with each drop of ink, being careful not to spill
Jamie King Feb 2016
We used to paint oceans of sorio lillies, across the sky pouring tears of life.
Merging memories of sore pasts and saw paths that revamped lost plants.
Without a seed, groomed roses and blossomed fields of dying daisies daily decaying dim.

Her kiss embellished wrathful storms,with red feathers of white birds drifting to the shore, of fine sand born from light zones in dark ends.

Now she's a ghost, a spirit of a wild mild mind in an abyss of enraged beasts. She's alive and breaths still,but her breath passes by the trees as though another leaf carried by the wind.
Is she in a coffin inside a casket buried beneath the garden of joy but only ripping despair, gloriously singing by herself?
I miss an old friend.
Jamie King Feb 2016
They climb dreaded shoulders of weary mountains,
with shredded beds and old blades.
Gently greeting the grass, shielding thorns born to burden feet.
  Pain is a meal for each day,
in blind winters blazing in cold flames, fading bold rays.
Beaming beyond reaches of feather fields,
Further Filled with golden rage
Jamie King Jan 2016
Pierced shreds of brown rags, ravaged by hounds with reeking sores.
Dripping a stream of pus, bred in rage, howling in dread where nights have no end.

Dancing Queens carrying the caskets of life,
majestically waltzing across salty rivers, swiftly gliding across oceans to embellished gardens nurtured by old wrinkled, shriveled hands In narrow paths with sinking sand.
I'll let you decide what it's all about.
  Jul 2015 Jamie King
Silent Sanctuary
We live in an age where people patronize technology,
Where criticisms exist beneath deafening reticence,
Where every truth needs to be re-examined,
And where life itself is falling on its foundations and hinges.

Beliefs and opinions are held back just for a sense of inclusion,
Letting every genuine trail of truth left behind and ignored.
And yet people wonder, why is this generation filled with delusion?
The only answer is, the loss of connection with Christ alone.

Many of us call ourselves true believers,
But when it comes to actions, the appropriate term might be barbarians.
More often than not, we only practice sanctity inside the church;
And as the mass ends, we come back to our own sordid worlds.

We are indeed sinners in different twisted ways,
Corrupted by evil, and thus to Him we go astray.
Yet, He continues to shower us with eternal love and forgiveness,
And waits patiently for us to greet him in turn with thanks, and praise.

Indeed His love for us - His children - is eternal and unconditional,
That even if we are in nature imperfect,
In His eyes, we are nothing but absolute beauty.
For we are created in His own image, liking, and serenity.
A project for a class.
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