Judgement Day is coming, God will eventually have all that he can take.
People will pay for their sins and the Commandments that they break.
People will hide under rocks because they'll be so scared.
But they need not hide, God will know that they are there.
When certain people face Judgement, they'll be in big trouble.
I suggest that these people change their ways on the double.
You may not believe that Judgement Day is coming but it will be here.
And with all of the wickedness in this world, that day may be near.

Dear Criminal,
As you sat there before me, in prison chains
I couldn’t help but wonder if a while ago
Your circumscription and castigation would be quite the same
Because for now, no matter the caliber of deed been done
You end up in a somber place of confinement
Where we all keep getting locked up one by one
But at least be glad, dear malefactor, that it isn’t 1675
For back then and in your position
How do I put this… well, you wouldn’t be quite so alive

stop throwing stones of judgement when we are all made of glass

The savior
The perfect partner
The dominant
The free spirit
The fiancé
The parental substitute
The anarchist
The sweetheart
The nice guy
All of these aspects of myself
Yet none of them are fully me
These are the roles I've fallen into
In order to match my various partners
And though all of these may be
Different components of me
None of them feels quite whole
I do not feel whole

All of these personalities
Exist on a spectrum of time and space
None interacting with any others
Each signifies a distinct point in life
Each has its own home
It's own experiences
Attitudes and viewpoints
Behaviors and habits

Yet what do I do when
Two of my contextualized selves
Decide to overlap?
When my ex who knew the fiancé
Moves back to town where I live
As does my person
Who's heard stories of the others
But who only knows the nice guy

How do I begin to heal when
I do not understand what is real
And what existed solely for others?
How do I continue to grow
When the fiancé is fighting restraints
And the nice guy is exhausted
The sweetheart does not exist
And the anarchist screams for revolution?

They seem to be fighting each other
Just to have a chance to breathe
A chance to take the wheel
A chance to control "me"
Yet who even am I?
Are all of these selves fabricated
Or are they hyperbolized aspects of me
Connectable like puzzle pieces
Into one beautiful picture?

The problem is
The picture I see is not beautiful
I'm trying to be nice to myself
But all I see and feel is darkness
I am an abomination
An evil person who cannot be trusted
A dark soul inhabiting an empty body
A person who is not a person
A human with a lack of self
It's almost like I'm not even alive
But even death would be a relief
So I can finally end the confusion
And stop hurting people along the way

My thoughts beget a signaling
Foreshadowed by a distancing
Of me from all who's listening
Yet seek to hurt this little thing
Oh Sun whose job it is to shine
Why not make this deed a crime?
Don't shine your gift on those who see
This hurting person wrapped in grief
Yet make the time to oversee
The evidence the hurting seek
Revert their eyes from my great pain
The Pen doth write to free the chains
Whose weight will take away and drain
The spirit unto which its lain
Oh tree whose job it is to give
Even to those who wish not to live
Forgive, Relive, Outlive my sins
Yet you stay put provide therin
Not for my sake to save the day
Don't need a cape to pave the way
For all mankind to follow thine
Don't judge a soul for it won't shine