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Andrew Rueter Sep 18
Life is full of wonder and curiosity as a small child. My eyes see. My tongue tastes. My fingers feel. My fingers feel as much as they can hold. One day my fingers feel a pepper. I'm fascinated by its texture. I roll it around in my hand to try to understand this wondrous world and its glorious gifts.

The pepper's provided productive perplexing pondering but I'm done with it now. Once set down I feel a twitch from an itch in my eyes that see. Eyes don't see my fingers as spicy. Fingers don't feel the pain that resides within them. Ears don't hear the silent marauders invading the grooves of my fingerprints. Satisfying my itch is my instinctive reaction. I'm in for a painful surprise once fingers meet eyes.

All I see is pain. All I feel is pain.
Disorienting pain that makes me sink to the floor. The cold linoleum offers no solace for the hellfire in my eyes. Blind and lost, wandering through agony, father picks me up. I can sense the hands that crafted and nurtured me. He is the solver and thus, will solve my pain. The jubilation of rescue is washed away as he shoves me under a running faucet. Surely, he has betrayed me. Surely, he is trying to ****** me. He throws me into a waterfall and asks me to swim up it.  Between sputtering out water and trying to turn away I feel panicked anger. He created me yet he gives me pain and death? I curse him in my wrath. After hope has been lost the warmth of healing comforts my eyes. The turbulent waves I thought I was drowning in were actually washing the brimstone from my eyes. Father forgives my curses as he forgives all things. Yet, I feel guilt for my lack of loyalty. If I cursed him while he actively rescued me, what will I do when the time comes to fight for him?
Sarah Crispin Jun 10
Through the storm
through the fire and brimstone they made for me
I still found the strength to run the blade through my own heart
And down the poison you let me take
Sydney Nov 2019
Love has no place here
My heart is cast
in fire and brimstone,
broken too many times before

I’ll be fine alone
You make me weak
Weakness makes you lose
I can’t...
I won’t...

Losing you will be
a causality I will
for you make my life so unfair

Love has no place here
You make me weak
You make my life so unfair
Steve Jul 2017
Get down on your knees and pray
(you know how it works)
And beg me to make it go away.

Don't ask why I made it so
(no one knows how this works)
That's a mystery you don't  need to know.

I'm the creator of everything
(I know how it works)
From a deadly virus to a spider's sting

Strange to think while you're on your knees
(Do you know how it works?)
I'm the creator of all disease

I made you and I love you true
(you know how it works)
And the rules say you must love me too

Because there's this place I call hell
(and do you know how that works?)
By the way I made hell as well

Well if you don't do just as I say
Then for eternity I send you away
(that's how it works)

Not for a while or until you learn
But forever and forever you burn
(hmm, is that how it works?)

They're the rules, I made them too
(this is how it works)
So I hope you know now what to do.
Liam C Calhoun May 2016
The smoke circled halo,
Bent smiles and summoned demons,
Brimstone come a reverent silent
And obeyed sort of way.

I let my left eye avoid.

I’d let my right dream,
As I munched skewered calf,
Innocent, slaughtered, salivated
And my only excuse – Survival.

Toe-to-toe with
Home-field advantage
I nodded from shadows
To the one who scented venom;

Lace tucked slightly thigh,
She’d wink and hours later,
The demon would meet the Devil
And she’d devour –

All I’d known,
All I’d ever know
And all we’d ever be.
Another life, but for some reason, I remembered that smoke filled room under arrogance tonight; maybe it's my obsession with neon.
Kurt Schneider May 2016
They need to redirect the energy they hate with
It's basic
Improvements will be made by creating love from hatred.
Like seeing a rain cloud and being glad you're outta the sun.
Like.. run Forrest run!!
What's with this kid?
Is he dumb?
I dunno
But he drops the funk like halitosis when the words leave his lungs.
..and the spit leaves his tongue.
Where the hell did he come from?
Not sure but..
I think they found him between a rock and a hard place with both sides of his heart stuck.
Little did they know he had them underneath his thumb
Just waitin to push the button
Waitin to spray on something
Waitin to be the one to,
Bring the fire and brimstone
Because revenge can be sweet,
Kinda like a cold stone,
So pump this **** loud
til the dairy cows come home
stick it upside down  in your tape deck
and eat it like a fat kid.
Leal Knowone May 2015
expression of impressions in sand
revisions of depressions in land
I'm clenching the rope of hopes last strand  
i'm grasping  intensely as i can
everyone has there own disguise
truth realized through pure eyes
in human blood they wash there hands
You carry your fire and brimstone inside

expression of impressions in sand
revisions of depressions in land
you see the blood on the helping hand
I am longing to find this feeling so grand
I would like to try to read your mind
darkness underneath a smile so kind
a demon behind timid mouse eyes
such reality declined you left behind
Frank Ruland Jul 2014
And it sets upon me
like wolves on sheep.
A helpless feeling
and bloodied fleece.

Angry bullets that
the everyday silence.
Shrapnel creates clatter

Roaring waves
crashing upon
serene shores.
Tranquility gone.

Flames that rage--
a coal seam fire.
Smolder underground.
An inferno with ire.

Buzzing hornets nest.
What hate they bring
amidst the chase.
Feeling every sting.

Tumultuous Rapture.
Blasphemy and brimstone.
Ashen skies looming
over forgotten tombstones.

Monster in the dark.
Gloom, doom, dread.
Erupt from shadows,
   "It's all in your head."
Frank Ruland Jul 2014
And with a hollowed heart I
breathe in this batch of brimstone.
I feel the burn and disintegrate as the
high--low?--takes me away.
"Ascension," and "declension" are
irrelevant when your ups are downs and
downs are spent getting back up.

With this splintered heart I
drown myself in rotgut.
I taste the misery and know
I am incomplete.
The sauce take off the edge,
but blurs the lines that much more.
I walk the line, unsure, how
close I am to
tumbling off the cliff.

With an angry heart I
type an angry text.
Every letter bears my indignation--
a seal of my consent.
I sit there for awhile and
wallow in black contempt.
I toss it against the wall and watch it
shatter into it's little pieces.
It's broken in such a way
it can't be put back together.
Fate is such a cruel mistress:
you live your life and then you're
subjected to tumult and torment.
The brimstones golden hunger, and leaking thoughts, the creeping delver lingers, haunts. Swelling faith, like flame to moths, truth re echoes like the sting of wasps. Cloaked man, from another land, faultlessly faithful in dying truth. Unhappy sinner, begs for refuge. Stirring again his thin sole shoes.

— The End —