"betaken" poems
Help Lord, for godly men have took their flight,
And left the earth to be the wicked's den:
Not one that standeth fast to Truth and Right,
But fears, or seeks to please, the eyes of men.
When one with other fall's to take apart,
Their meaning goeth not with their words in proof;
But fair they flatter, with a cloven heart,
By pleasing words, to work their own behoof.
But God cut off the lips, that are all set,
To trap the harmless soul, that peace hath vow'd;
And pierce the tongues, that seek to counterfeit
The confidence of truth, by lying loud:
Yet so they think to reign, and work their will,
By subtle speech, which enters every where:
And say, our tongues are ours, to help us still,
What need we any higher power to fear?
Now for the bitter sighing of the poor,
The lord hath said, I will no more forbear,
The wicked's kingdom to invade and scour,
And set at large the men restrain'd in fear.
And sure, the word of God is pure, and fine.
And in the trial never loseth weight;
Like noble gold, which, since it left the mine,
Hath seven times passed through the fiery straight.
And now thou wilt not first thy word forsake,
Nor yet the righteous man, that leans thereto;
But will't his safe protection undertake,
In spite of all, their force and wiles can do.
And time it is, O Lord, thou didst draw nigh,
The wicked daily do enlarge their bands;
And that, which makes them follow ill a vie,
Rule is betaken to unworthy hands.
3.7k
Since the beginning of Men & Women
Of a sick twisted land of an epidemic
That seizes the blood of our children
For a key way to life
As it devours the bones of our young
For structure and attention
As it takes away their skin for beauty and perfection
This abomination is left without starvation
Born into a world
Not knowing of my consequences
Oh lord, why was I deemed to die?
If ever an opportunity
Maybe I could have done something
With my life.
As I watched mothers cry
As I watched fathers die
Left as child
In a ideological vision
Of I’m not blue, white, and yellow
I am not civil
More likely to be evil
Sadly I am waste of desire
Left to burn on fire
It’s crazy to wake up
In the
Bright sunny morning
To betaken away
Left to cry and left with so many worries
It’s been so long that I've seen
The ones I love
Secluded in a land of no returns
As my veins are left with remorse
My soul is torn away from me
As I’m punished everyday
Am I alive or am I dead
Days pass
Months feel like years
But this hour feels the same
I stare at the sky
As I watch angels just stand there
Let alone, I’m consumed
By a dark cloud
Drenched in my tears of crimson
My prayers are yet to be heard from this imprisonment
It’s hard to sleep
When so many voices
Are yelling and telling me
Live, but it’s so hard to hear
When the digesting sound of death
Is calling me to **** myself
This land is a wasteland
A field of unmarked graveyards
Where souls are kidnapped
Where a savior doesn’t exist
My life is on the bottom of this list
It’s hard to live a life
When I’m labeled
How I wish to play with the other children
But I’m incarcerated in a star
Please lord, give me strength
As I fight for my life
Can you uplift my spirit!
So one day I can tell my grandchildren,
I was among many of God’s children that seen hell & out
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
shouldn’t a graveyard,
awaiting our most fearful memories, embalm
all that may necessarily bloom?
in that cemetery, never spoken
all becomes flawed and slippery memory
with hope poisoning the vines
find these buried roses waiting
necessarily venomous, always waiting
reckoning with the chaos
buried wholly, suspended perfectly
seldom deemed worthy, seldom betaken
now signifying nothing
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC