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Ylzm Apr 2021
marrying and given in marriage
wickedness breeds greater wickedness
each generation stinkier than the last
and every child born a greater evil

the scattered righteous are few and hated
overwhelmed and drowning in deep sea
sparing the unborn from sorrows and griefs
gifted with the Comforter for courage and help

time is shortened for their sake
in half a time shall they be rescued
in three days and not a week
and in a week and not a year

buds have blossomed and harvest’s not delayed
we mined the Moon and harnessed the Sun
decay’s stench unmistakable but blindly persuaded
as freedom’s necessary aroma, even sacred

the wicked disintegrate where they stand
in utter terror and panic slay one another
earth terraformed in a day without end
and buying and selling cease
Dylan McFadden Feb 2021
I’m caught in a game
Of hide-and-seek…

Where the run-from One
Haunts my every thought,
And calls out to me
With seductive roars

[And I know her too well;
I know her too often]

While the chase-after Other
Graces my every dream,
And dances upon the earth
With footsteps as soft as a whisper

[And, oh, this Other I long to know;
Oh, this Other I long to hold]

I’m caught in a game
Of hide-and-seek…

Inspired by Ecclesiastes 7

As other wisdom teachers have done (see Proverbs 1-9), the author of Ecclesiastes depicts folly and wisdom in terms of two women: one a pernicious seductress and the other an elusive virtuous bride.

Humanity is caught in a crazy game of seeking and finding. People are constantly chased by Folly, a dangerous “woman” from whose deadly snares they must try to escape; but only those favored by God can do so, while others inevitably are caught (7:26). At the same time, one tries desperately to find Wisdom, the “woman” who could save one from danger, but she is elusive (7:24, 28).
Ylzm Aug 2020
Once you've sat at Wisdom's feet
and heard her teach the Truth
Light's unbearable and dark
and Teachers most grievously painful

For there is no error in the plumb line
Any tilt and crookedness is exposed
Every hearts' wickedness and deceitfulness
cries out and stinks as dead men's sores
Ylzm Aug 2019
tattoos, the mark of Cain
instinctively inducing revulsion
stirring a mix of fear and hate
and of contempt and pity

today a common mark of man
mistaking individuality for identity
abhorrence for affirmation of being
and grotesque debasement for beauty

the mark of exile, rejection, and wickedness
now of fellowship, freedom, and choice
embracing the perverse to shock as all children do
now permanently etched, defiant without understanding

perhaps it is fitting and timely now
for the world is going the way of Cain
the mark of man is yet another sign
manifesting openly for those given to see
Ylzm May 2019
So blind, the blind despairs.
So wicked, ***** grieves.

So indistinguishable from evil,
their judgement of evil, truly just.
So indistinguishable from their ruthless enemy,
the utter destruction decreed shall befall both suddenly.

The aggrieved weeps.
The wicked hardens.
Wickedness upon wickedness.
Endurance beyond Lot's,
given, the righteous' lot.
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
On the verge of innocence
But you was so meticulous
In your vicious wickedness
I had no idea of your fecklesness
Then you left me there to die
I could see the evil in your eyes
You tried so hard your evil to impart
But I'm not as weak as you had thought
In your wickedness I will take no part

Instead I'll forgive you and steal that power
That you thought over me would tower

For no one can take my empathy
For I have tasted the agony
Of many lifes and many years
I've cried a million tears

And I can see the pain in others
Even when they try to cover
With happy smiles that don't reach the eyes
I see the tears that they lock inside
And always I'll stand by their side
That in our agony we can connect
I'll never be one that will reject

For I've traveled the road their going down
Many times in fact, I know the bumps and the sounds
Even been chased by the devils hounds
But every time I do rebound
But with the passing years it's getting harder
And soon one day I know, I'll be counted as just another martyr
Jessie Taylor H Mar 2016
I can't stand to become that person again.
I can be strong as long as I keep this blade close to my skin.
Locking away each deep little thought.
Accidentally remembering the ones I forgot.

The darkness is a consuming the very essence of my mind.
Searching for the light, but I'm becoming more blind.
Coming to terms with who I crave to become.
Stripping away any remaining innocence, immorality impossible to overcome.
Bonswan Feb 2016
A man kills a man. A ****** blasphemes the resplendent soul of the angelic; ravaging the virtuous house by way of his wicked rapine. Yet the effulgent heart has relinquished the curse of enmity - the noble finds no solace amid the rancor of Hate. Hatred is naught but a vile curse, a bane which plagues the wielder with strife.

Truly I maintain, a condign response commands grace and repose. Do not tolerate the sedative pleasure Hatred bears, for alike an ****** the analgesic peculiarities will soon turn to misery -  unloosing the very wickedness the righteous heart held in such abhorrent contempt.

Only Love can oppose the venom of Hatred and lead the wicked to righteousness. Love will invariably triumph.
A little different from usual, I hope someone gets something out of it. Composed during meditation.
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