In a far off land where
Lions and bear
Roam around inciting no Fear

Where, the lion can be small
And the mouse big
And the unicorns can prance through halls

And the birds do not need to fly
Where mice don’t need to be afraid
And foxes have no need to be sly

Where the ****** past of the rabbit,
Is solemnly and regretfully acknowledge
By its many oppressors and killer in ways deemed fit

Where the ***** and the *****
Do not need to bow their heads in shame
As victims of Sin

Where the fish can love the butterfly
And the leopard plays with the lamb
A world in where the sky

Is lit by the lights
Of ten thousand moths
Unworried about danger of sight

And in where the sparrows swim
And the fire burns in the lake
Where the conflict has at last

Been resolved in ways thought impossible.

I dreamt of...
          A black sea
          With a barren land
          A red sea
          With bloodshed sand
          A green sea
          With flourished tropical jungle and
          A blue sea
          With puff filled teary sky
I am not sure if the last one I saw was a dead sea?*



©sim

Who fired the first bullet?
Who drew the first knife?
Who took the first life?
Who verbally assaulted the first person
Who's fear did worsen
into fight rather than flight
in the dark night
Of the human soul
How do we address the bloodshed and killing
What if we were willing
To let go of the bloodshed show
We know what is like to know
What is like to live in tribes
But if worked together love, unity and hope would arrive.

Go on, press record
Lift your phone to bloodshed
Lift your phone to the sound of hatred
Of bloodlust laid on a foundation
That was never really stable to begin with

Go on, film those frames
As you watch me beat the **** out of
All those who made me feel like ****
Worthless
Hated
Unloved
Alone
The final gunslinger, taking his stand
Draws his pistols, hipfiring
And in his stance, thumb through belt loop
Hat down over his eyes
Ashamed of his instant reaction,
His ability to **** and inability to remain emotionless

Go on, press record
Put it on Facebook
Let everyone know what you really are:
A cowardly bystander

Yet I know that the Sovereign LORD  loves me
For did He not give up his breath and die upon a tree?

The cross is not just a place where blood flows
It is a doorway through which the free must go

For every wound that I've received
And every lie that I've believed

I will place at the foot of that cross
And never again shall I be a lamb lost

What the hell is up with the assassination attempts towards LGBTQ+ community? what did they even do? I mean, why hate someone for being different, why try and **** someone for being gay, or, bi, or transgender? or whatever they associate themselves as? like it just baffles me how much hate and animosity this world has, if someone is different, let them be different, because we all have differences and that what makes us the same, we're human beings and should be treating each other as such, I have friends that are gay, and bi, and I'm a straight guy myself, but you don't see me treating them any different, I respect them and they respect me, at the end of the day, it's all about love, respect and character, when did we turn a blind eye towards those values and morals? it's just crazy the amount of hatred and violence this society will stoop to....

Surrounded by mud
our feet make love to the surface
                                                        the bullets kiss us, the bayonets hug
                                                      our intestines.....

                                         The blankets
                                        cuddle with our cold, decaying corpses

we write to our wives, letters that will never be delivered

                    the wet ground gives our feet an unpleasant present
                    in the form of gangrene,

the rats  make themselves at home,

feasting upon the rotten
                                 flesh of fallen comrades.....

the maggots make use
of newly formed skulks and aged decaying bone

                                         then comes the symphony of artillery....

    the roar of gunfire, the marching of tanks
                                                    the mighty foot soldiers, and
                    the majestic golden smoke of mustard gas

          the trenches become our unwanted love
         and our unholiest of homes......

"The tears do not shed
the blood does not spill, and the soldier does not die"
is the common the battle cry sung upon us


            these bitter notes of blind fate forever sing to us
                                          

                                               the illusion of life and the irony of war.....

There is no glory in bloodshed
No honor is death and decay
But in a little town near Georgia
From away from this bloodied land

A girl by the name of Linda
Has my son in her arms
And a hand on her hip
And planting little vinca's

Is waiting for me.

There is no glory in bloodshed
No honor in death and decay
But my husband is waiting for me
In Petticoat, Maine.

And even though we fought before I left
He's expecting me home
A kiss
And for my head on his chest

There is no glory in bloodshed
No glory in death and decay
But I'd give my very life for you
For I Have grown to love living
In the US of A

Her long, flowing, black hair
sways in the autumn breeze

silence speaks, she is silent

a lonely bullet lays in the chamber
her hands rest gingerly on the guard
her fingers snuggle the trigger

The leaves blow, the poppies bloom
and the grass stands still....

her eyes gaze and wonder....

the enemy is in her cross-hair
silent speaks....

The bullet whispers to the wind....