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ConnectHook Sep 2015
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When the Mahdi returns to smite Dajjal,
When the Antichrist in his temple of lies
is vanquished by lightning from God’s black skies
as the shuddering stars blink, waver and fall,
When JAH Rastafari, Lord Jesus (and Paul)
With Isaac and Ismael – even Jibril
Cash in on redemption and pay up the bill
(no longer in discord, but harmonized all) –
When the Jinn (and the tonik) have thrown in the towel
as libations are served by the Heavenly Host,
while Apollyon’s watchdog combusts with a howl
and the demons and dhimmicrats give up the ghost –
only then shall we learn not to entertain doubt.
But until that apocalypse: vote the clowns out !
The signs of the arrival of Dajjal are emerging:
جن لوگوں نے دجال کے بارے میں پڑھا ہے انکے لئے یہ جاننا آسان ہے کہ دجال کا پورا سسٹم تیار ہو چکا ہے.
انکو لیڈ کریں گے اور زلزے جو آرہے ہیں موسم بدل رہا ہے یہ سب حدیثوں میں آچکا ہے۔ پاکستان میں سیلاب اور زلزلہ ڈینگی یہ سب اسی کا ایک حصہ ہے

۞  ۩  ۞
dare you to listen to THIS:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lww3LftQaw
Mary K Sep 2015
Outside, the world is hurdling on
through space and time and everything else
While our people tear each other to ruins.
Inside, the walls come crumbling down
taking blood and bone along with it
While embers burn to ash in what's left of our minds.
The end of the world is such a concept
Because what's ending?
I can assure you one thing:
Nature existed far before humans arrived
and nature will continue to exist after.
Forest fires rage through countrysides and mountain ranges
But no time is wasted before new trees are growing out of the cinders.
With us, a forest fire rages through our being
and we drown as the flames burn us from inside
until it's too late
And there's nothing to show except a blackened shadow on the ground we once stood
Because we paved over any chance of rebirth when we stoked the fire and gave in.
whatttt
Scott Lipka Sep 2015
A loaf of bread
A cup of win
Feast of the ******
So divine
Corpses rot
In open graves
Food for crows
The end of days
Hourglass broken
Times spilt sand
Famine and pestilence
Cover the land
The fires burn high
Mother Earth moans
Her children all dead
She's covered with their bones
Opens wounds
Never healed
Mothers last breath
Our doom sealed
Lost Sep 2015
Humanity was not created to save the earth,
It was not created to see it's ending,
We were not sent here to carry out a purpose.
None of us possess the understanding...

We are but children in an adult world,
We stumble and fall without reason.
All of us little boys and girls,
Against the creator - committing high treason.

Our leaders are warned,
And we are discouraged,
We can't be saved from the scorn,
Of Terra Firma's Mother.

The *end
is near, *we will all see,
Pointing our guilty fingers.
And while we didn't mean to be,
*We will be its Harbingers.
Humanity is the Harbringer of the Apocalypse
Cunning Linguist Aug 2015
Unplug the TV.
Turn off the internet.
Going dark is the only thing that we can do.

Whether we know it or not, we are only feeding into these egregores.
We say we want to be informed.
We consider it being educated, cultured, aware.
But for what?

What good does it do to learn about the trials and tribulations around us?
So we can voice our opinion?
So we can say, "I told you so"?
So we can flex a little mental muscle,
playing games of connect the dots,
trying to predict the next big event?

We can watch it all fall apart, sure.
Pop some popcorn. Refresh the page.
Check the latest pinned threads.
But in the end what will it have mattered?
Aren't we all just trying to get the best seats in the house,
So we can watch the world burn around us?

Movements are not going to change anything,
No amount of rioting, protesting, demonstrations, reforms,
Viral videos, shares and likes, subscribers, followers,
You can be the loudest voice in the room but to no avail.

So they'll come for your guns.
What then?

You fight off one, maybe two, rounds of invaders.
They keep coming.
They keep moving in.
Surrounding you on all sides.
Then ****! Your homestead just got WACO'd.

The war drums beat and the trumpets blare.
Bombs bursting in air.
Flags tattered and charred.
The stores are empty.
Your shelves are full.
For how long though?

One year? Five years? Ten year plans?
Then what?

When the soil is irradiated.
The waters contaminated.
The fish and birds and animals long since dead.
So hungry that you'll eat another human being?
Your mother? Your wife? Your son? Your daughter?
Dinner for ravenous wolves?

This really is the apocalypse.
It's not a lightning crash,
but a slow burn.
While the rest of the world denies,
and the angels in heaven cry,
the demons inside of us lie,
Not this time.
Not today.

We made it past this failed prediction date,
Y2K, 2012, Me Tel U Now,
What next?
September 23rd?
Are we really ready if it is?
So you think you can survive the fall,
well be proud and pat yourself on the back.
When the rest of the world is gone,
and only you and your hatred remain,
who will validate your ego then?

When the radioactive fallout pours from the sky,
covering everything in it's murky haze,
toxic winds and acid rain,
a scorched, ransacked and ravaged earth,
this is your inheritance?

Martial law
New World Order
FEMA camps
Economic collapse
Global pandemic
Staged alien invasion
Second comings
False messiahs
Peace and safety,
Woe and destruction

When it comes will you look back and remember these last dying days?
Will you regret following every trending story,
Every false flag media distraction,
Trying to predict and prove and make your point?
Will you feel justified then?
The doom you waited for so eagerly having finally arrived?
Your affairs all in order,
Scott free by the skin of your teeth,
the last of a dying race,
victorious and supreme?

Go outside.
Breathe in the air while you still can.
Hug your wife or husband or children.
Call your brother or sister and tell them you love them.
Put aside petty differences.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for ONLY THEY shall be called the sons and daughters of God.
This truth seeking superiority profits us nothing.
Vanity,
Vexation of spirit,
Chasing after the wind.

Soon days like these will be just a memory,
Something you'll daydream about,
Only to snap back to a cold and desolate room,
A can of kidney beans,
Three bullets left,
Not enough oil to keep your lamp burning through the night,
Danger around every corner,
Everyone you loved and cared for dead,
The pit in your stomach,
the lump in your throat,
the hope for survival all but snuffed out,
waiting for the rapture,
waiting to wake up from that bad dream

Won't you wish you had done more?
Loved harder?
Forgave sooner?
Given more generously?
It's not too late to start,
Those memories you make today,
Will be the fuel you need to keep going then,
It'll be the only thing keeping you alive,
when all else has already failed.
I DID NOT WRITE THIS. THIS WAS ON A POST ON A THREAD I FOUND ON GODLIKE PRODUCTIONS.COM. I TAKR NO CREDIT OTHER THAN SHAPING THIS INTO A POEM AND SPREADING THE MESSAGE OF ITS CONTENTS THANK YOU
Caitlin Fisher Aug 2015
We could tear the world asunder, you and I
Our footfalls echo thunderous across these marble walls
And we would watch, hand in hand
The cataclysmic falling of dawn
All red shadows and burning marble faces
For who but us could make the world blaze so bright
flash poetry 1/7
Savanna Noelle Aug 2015
The sky is changing.
The wind has shifted.
The pattern of the tides is broken.
Clouds settle over distant mountains.
A storm is brewing.
Divine forces are at war,
Tearing the balance
Between Light and Dark,
Good and Evil,
Right and Wrong,
Life and Death.
Flee before the wrath
Or perish,
For now it rains a rain that will never cease.
The wolves have come down from the hills,
Hungry and full of hate.
Hunting through the Forest;
Hunting through the Village.
They prowl, ever watchful,
Waiting.
Waiting for the Heavens to drip red.
The End has come at last.
The Universe itself is dissolving into nothing.
Fire illuminates the skies.
Tremors travel through the ground.
Lightning reaches its long, spindly fingers
Down, down, down
From the clouds of ash that spew from the Fire Mountain.
Hope is lost.
Dreams fall to their knees,
Dying.
Laughter is extinguished,
Wails of agony taking its place in our hearts.
Death is all around.
The forests are ablaze,
The mountains are crumbling,
The Seven Seas evaporate into space.
The Devil sits on his Dark Throne,
Joy shining in his eyes as he watches The Pearly Gates fall.
Screams fill the air.
The Sun is no more.
The Moon is no more.
The constellations have disappeared.
The River of Time flows crimson
As all light is obliterated.
The world has met its demise,
And what can we do but burn?
Thomas Newlove Jul 2015
If one hundred and forty characters were all that's left to send help and save the world, I probably shouldn't have spent them writing this.
David Adamson Jul 2015
The others look at the ground.
They look at the sky.
They watch for a miracle,
Believing that they believe,
Wondering when they will no longer wonder,
Unthinkingly mouthing the New English Bible.

You ignore their designs.
You wait for the moment
When we will forget
The climate in our clothes
And the slaughter on our plates
And the tongues of our elders
And the mystery of what remains
And that light is our order,
Our kingdom is stone
And that love, envy, joy, despair
Are rituals that we cannot unlearn
As we touch and retreat in predictable ways.

The sun burns its vicious circle.
So you lie down to sleep.
You try to go to sleep.
You hope they remember to wake you.
But not too soon.
No, not too soon.
Astral Jul 2015
When the bombs fell, the world put on a different dress
It wasn’t made of silk and cotton, but of charred flesh
The waters turned to rot, the life seemed to disappear
The beds of the young became fire, they didn’t have a chance to fear

When the bombs fell, humanity took a hard swig
For it knew of the damage done, it was already feeling sick
As the screams echoed a hellish cry; safety a fairy tale, comfort a goodbye
The streets cracked with dread and despair, nothing more to be

When the bombs fell, God was merely away
Jesus seemed to be foriegn, the Devil a mere ghost
For this was something beyond evil, it was something more cold
It was the smile of darkness, a black smile across the bodies

When the bombs fell, nothing was organic
It was twisted monstrosity, of inhuman conduction
Gods black tears flowed the sewers, the hymns under the chaos
The angel of death burnt away, as the smoke never cleared

When the bombs fell, it was horror of mind
The comprehension of it all, never was fully aware
These moments came, and would never be again
They were gone, charred to the tune of atomic choirs

When the bombs fell, it was something
Mere words can never say, what it truly was
It was something disgusting, something vile
something of humanities own creation, the sickest feeling of it all
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