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'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all;
But, like the Ghost at Pentecost,
True love stays when it comes to call.
Of all sad words of tongue or pen
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"
For us the saddest words are not:
What might have been has been a lot!
061224

Malaya kong isisigaw ang Ngalan Mo —
Dakila Ka,
Dakila Ka ngang talaga.

Saksi ako sa kabutihan Mo
Sa buhay kong balang araw
Ay babalik din sa alikabok —
Na ang bawat pangako Mo’y
Mga balang lumagablag sa aking kaibuturan.

Saksi ako sa pag-ibig ****
Umaakap at umaakay sa akin
Pabalik at papalapit Sa’yo —
Ang pagmamahal **** kusang ibinibigay,
Ibinubuhos, mabuhay lamang ako.

Saksi ako sa grasya **** umaapaw,
Nalulunod ako Sa’yong pag-ibig
At sa Liwanag Mo’y nabubulag ako
Hanggang sa…
Hindi ko na masilayan
Ang dati kong pagkatao.

Nagbago na pala ako,
Ako’y binago Mo.
Malayang-malaya na pala ako,
Ako’y pinalaya Mo.

Dakila — ‘yan Ka,
Mahal — mahal Kita, Ama.
God is there for us and he'll never forsake us.
He will be there until the days that he takes us.
He'll continue to be there for us when we're in Heaven.
He sent his only begotten son to save men and women.
You may think that God has forsaken you but that's not true.
God will always love all of us and we need to love him too.
God will never forsake us and when things are bad, he will be there.
Through thick and thin, God will be there because he truly does care.
everyone will die
no one wants to until they realize that life is prison
and in death they are free-
they are like orphans, taken in with kindness
unaware of their caretaker
[who they are,
what they want from them-]
when death is your foster parent,
his abuse isn’t forthright-
it’s like I learned in kindergarten
“how do you boil a frog?”
“slowly increasing the heat over a long  period of time.”
relax too long in his hot spring
and death may make a meal out of your naivety-

it’s only human;

when you are tortured days upon days
you ask for the bitter gall to hasten your death;
and life can be torturous to many
as everyday we are crushed by a millstone:
the weight of the rotting bodies
of children who took their parents gun
put it into their mouths
thinking they could swallow bullets,
leaving pieces of their skull
as little gifts to those that are left behind-

we are crushed by the purposeless, repetitive work load-
we form addictions just to cope with the lack of sleep
lack of energy
lack of love
lack of connection
and lack of intuition that we are forced to experience-

i was always told
“get used to doing the same thing and never changing
because it doesn’t end in school
it continues every day
until you finally get to pass away
with those who love you surrounding your side.”
oh death can’t be the only reward in this life!
no wonder why we can’t ever lose infatuation with killing ourselves,
“it all has to be better-
something has to be better-
anything could be better
than what we live in”-

I’ve found that the grass is never greener on the other side of the wall
it’s just sometimes taller
or shorter
or has some different plants growing inside
but the color only changes with the seasons
and we will all experience rainfall and drought
even God says that “it shall rain on the just and the unjust.”
so I move forward
remembering that “i have learned the secret
of being content
in any and every situation
whether well fed or hungry, whether living
in plenty or in want.”
and I cling to this verse as a  stronghold in my faith-

we will all see hell rain down in this earth
and many will weep as the blood and bones are crushed
and the skin is melted away
and also when the spirit is divided from the soul,
but there are still many who will not be concerned with
this or that
or the troubles of the day
and like nurses
they will stomach the stench of decay
and the sight of blood
and they will rush to aid those weeping
and comfort the broken,
picking up the pieces,
helping to fix their shattered complexion,
and will not take the bitter gall
but endure suffering-
and in suffering
we will find true freedom-
becoming like Christ
like lambs to the slaughter
and we will see our reward.
AceLione Jun 5
When God created man, he did so by creating Adam in his own image

How could the devil sway Adam and Eve if they were created from God’s own visage?

Is it sin if our creator could fall for the same blasphemous deeds?

Ask yourself if every flower blooms as pretty because they come from the same seeds
Mysterious indeed
Meete me beneathe the olive-tre
I'th'garden of Gethsemane
Quhair Jesus pray'd.  Pray thou with me.

Twa corbies mak an homely nest
Within the gardens wooden brest.
The Sunne is running toward the west.

From off the tre the fruicte doth fall
Upon the firm fixt flatten'd ball
Of wormwood Earth whose seas are gall.
MsAmendable Jun 1
When we as loveless humans failed,
With hate in every word exhaled
We turned and let our gods all crash,
we turned our children into ash.
.
And from out the ashes crawled
A thousand demons, wide and tall
Roiling mud and blood and stench
Tore out from groaning wound-like trench
.
And then down from the sun there flew
(not too many nor too few)
A band of angels, a golden choir
Singing songs of purging fire
.
And at the end of battle-day
In the fields of war there lay
No liars, beggars, thiefs or knaves
But a thousand crying naked babes
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052824

Sa tuwing hinahagis ko
Ang aking sarili Sa’yong harapan,
Ay nais kong isakatapuran Mo rin
Ang bawat pangakong inilathala’t
Ipinagtibay ng dugong dumanak sa Krus.

Sa tuwing kumukulimlim na
Ang aking mga mata’y
Gusto kong magtago Sa’yong lilim
At doon ang aking pahinga.

Isisigaw ko ang lahat ng aking pangamba
At lulusawin ng pag-ibig Mo
Ang bawat tinik na pumipigil sa’kin para huminga.

At kung pupwede lang
Na patigilan Mo ang bawat ritmo ng oras
Upang panandaliang maibsan ang aking pangungulila —
Kung pwede lang sana.

Sa mga buhangin ng aking pagkukunwari’y
Kusa Mo akong aanyayahan
Sa malalim at malawak **** karagatan.
At kailan nga ba ako matututo?
Kailan nga ba kita masisilayan
At massasabi nang aking mga mata’y
Ikaw ang tanging totoo?

Nasasabik ako
Sa tuwing sasalubungin Mo ako ng pag-asa
At kalakip pala ng pagtiklop ng bawat umaga’y
Ang yakap **** mainit
Na tumatawag sa’kin na mas piliin pa ang malalim.

Taliwas sa aking sariling prinsipyong
Binahiran ng mga haka-haka
Ang kapangyarihan ng tunay na pananampalataya.
At Sa’yo pala mawawalang bisa
Ang bawat kuro-kurong
Hinayaan kong magsilbing masasamang damo
Sa hardin ng aking pagkatao.

Ngayo’y bubuksan kong muli
Ang aking pintuan
At wala nang iba pang makagagapi
Sa Tinig **** ginawa ko nang pader
At pugad ng aking bukas
Na Sa’yo ko lamang iniaalay.
There once was a man called Rabboni.
The pharisees called him a phony.
     They called him a fraud
     Even when they were awed
By miracles they said were baloney.
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