#brimstone
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?
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 6:33 AM UTC
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
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 9:01 PM UTC
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...
lose
Losing you will be
a causality I will
bare
for you make my life so unfair
Love has no place here
You make me weak
You make my life so unfair
Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC
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.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
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.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
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
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
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.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC