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Alyssa Underwood Sep 2017
Perilous times are foretold for the end
When the one who betrays might as soon be a friend
When he who walked with you in the midst of God's throng
Proves a broken-off reed who didn't belong
When the crowd turns away from the truth they once knew
To embrace a strange fire of the enemy's brew
When the mystic is favored much more than the teacher
And intolerant is the name reserved for the preacher

For myriads have tasted of the heavenly gifts
Then at some unknown point the set compass shifts
And they show by the fact that they do not endure
That they never knew the One Whose salvation is sure
For He's promised He cannot lose one of His own
Yet His wheat grows with tares that His enemy's sown
So these goats dressed as sheep might say all the right words
But pasted-on wings do not turn moles to birds

They learn the same Scriptures and enjoy the same songs
But haven't yet come to the cross for their wrongs
Haven't taken it up and followed the Lord
Have never been born of His Spirit Who is poured
Into all whom the Father has chosen for His Son
Those predestined before the world had begun
So among the elect in the pews sit the dead
Unregenerate men taking up masks instead

And some will sit thus for the rest of their life
While others walk away overcome by the strife
Of their trials, distractions, desires or greed
Rather trusting the world to provide all that they need
For discipleship costs and most think it too high
A price now to pay of their self who must die
Most are tripped by the weight of that covenant walk
Which accompanies a faith that goes past mere talk

It is God's grace alone which grants genuine belief
And with it repentance for proud or for thief
While the course remains bumpy until dying day
The saved may fall down, but they can't fall away
For salvation from first to the last is of the Lord
And His Spirit within is what keeps saints secured
It's our duty and privilege to obey and abide
Yet how could we without His power inside?

Now besides a new fuel we receive a new nature
The old man is dead, we are made a new creature
One that's being conformed to the image of Jesus
So we live to please Him now and not to please us
But because of this switch the world is enraged
For when light shines in darkness its evil's front stage
They hate us the same as they hated our Master
And as time nears its close their fury swells faster

Persecution's been promised for all who are godly
Could be mocking, rejection or harm that is ******
It cannot compare though to what's been exchanged
In the gift of redemption for our souls long-deranged
So we dare not forget when the blows are received
That those doing the punching are still dead and deceived
Still locked in the grip of the enemy's force
Still blinded by sin, still enslaved to its course

Just judgment will come if they do not repent
If they keep on rejecting God's Lamb Who was sent
So it's best left to Him to defend us against
The disdain and discord of a world that's incensed
For they're already judged who refuse to believe
And we would be too but for mercy's reprieve
Being saved from God's wrath that is soon to be poured
Out full strength onto those who His truths have ignored

In the meantime the Father's maturing His children
Forging character depth through both trials and discipline
So let's not lose hope in the face of our sorrow
But rejoice that He's working it out for tomorrow
Since we have a sure treasure stored for us in heaven
And we'll soon be set free from all sin-staining leaven
Let's press on toward Christ's likeness worked in us by grace
And look hard for first moments our eyes see His face!
~~~

"'However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.'"  
~ Acts 20:24
Alyssa Underwood Feb 2016
Perilous times are foretold for the end
When the one who betrays might as soon be a friend
When he who walked with you in the midst of God's throng
Proves a broken-off reed who didn't belong
When the crowd turns away from the truth they once knew
To embrace a strange fire of the enemy's brew
When the mystic is favored much more than the teacher
And intolerant is the name reserved for the preacher

For myriads have tasted of the heavenly gifts
Then at some unknown point the set compass shifts
And they show by the fact that they do not endure
That they never knew the One Whose salvation is sure
For He's promised He cannot lose one of His own
Yet His wheat grows with tares that His enemy's sown
So these goats dressed as sheep might say all the right words
But pasted-on wings do not turn moles to birds

They learn the same Scriptures and enjoy the same songs
But haven't yet come to the cross for their wrongs
Haven't taken it up and followed the Lord
Have never been born of His Spirit Who is poured
Into all whom the Father has chosen for His Son
Those predestined before the world had begun
So among the elect in the pews sit the dead
Unregenerate men taking up masks instead

And some will sit thus for the rest of their life
While others walk away overcome by the strife
Of their trials, distractions, desires or greed
Rather trusting the world to provide all that they need
For discipleship costs and most think it too high
A price now to pay of their self who must die
Most are tripped by the weight of that covenant walk
Which accompanies a faith that goes past mere talk

It is God's grace alone which grants genuine belief
And with it repentance for proud or for thief
While the course remains bumpy until dying day
The saved may fall down, but they can't fall away
For salvation from first to the last is of the Lord
And His Spirit within is what keeps saints secured
It's our duty and privilege to obey and abide
Yet how could we without His power inside?

Now besides a new fuel we receive a new nature
The old man is dead, we are made a new creature
One that's being conformed to the image of Jesus
So we live to please Him now and not to please us
But because of this switch the world is enraged
For when light shines in darkness its evil's front stage
They hate us the same as they hated our Master
And as time nears its close their fury swells faster

Persecution's been promised for all who are godly
Could be mocking, rejection or harm that is ******
It cannot compare though to what's been exchanged
In the gift of redemption for our souls long-deranged
So we dare not forget when the blows are received
That those doing the punching are still dead and deceived
Still locked in the grip of the enemy's force
Still blinded by sin, still enslaved to its course

Just judgment will come if they do not repent
If they keep on rejecting God's Lamb Who was sent
So it's best left to Him to defend us against
The disdain and discord of a world that's incensed
For they're already judged who refuse to believe
And we would be too but for mercy's reprieve
Being saved from God's wrath that is soon to be poured
Out full strength onto those who His truths have ignored

In the meantime the Father's maturing His children
Forging character depth through both trials and discipline
So let's not lose hope in the face of our sorrow
But rejoice that He's working it out for tomorrow
Since we have a sure treasure stored for us in heaven
And we'll soon be set free from all sin-staining leaven
Let's press on toward Christ's likeness worked in us by grace
And look hard for first moments our eyes see His face!
"However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace."  Acts 20:24

Thank you Melissa Pagano, Eddie Starr, Lidi Minuet, my Soul Survivor sister Catherine and many others for your examples of boldness to proclaim the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ! You are true inspirations to me!!
haley Oct 2017
The trail of a wedding dress
The flower girl holds with tiny fingers
Clutches

We too hold the endless stain of blood
On white t-shirts
On nights that scatter blue trees over black heart
Alight by shooting stars
The mother tells her child
Unwilling to unlock the truth

The truth
The truth those stars
Don't grant your wishes
They grab them
With scarred scratching hands.
Alight,

The damp stitches in the soil
Cemetery symmetrical to hospital
Those shooting stars circling
Like a vulture
Speeds towards dead carcasses
Still, the murdering star will not cease

To break bones
That have already broken
To take lives
That have already been taken
To burn
What is already charred

Today
It smells like not your favorite food for dinner
It smells like having to do your math homework
It smells like burning books
It smells like gnawing on your own skin for feast
It sounds like tired, howling machines
Spurring and sputtering, never-ending their onwards trek

Swallowing distances and with it, nameless faces
Nameless places
For nothing has gone without the occulent scratching hands taking hold

Today the earthquakes of death
Don't make the land shake anymore
For it has learned to cope
With the desolate cemeteries filled with mute bones

Today burns like gasoline
Looks like intestines decorating destroyed doors
Today it rains curdled crimson

Tell me shooting star
If the child liked  jam on his toast
Did he snore?
Did he like math? Or english?
Shooting star doesn't know and neither the bombs.

As bodies fall from trees
like rotten plums.

The world was born in blood
And has not ceased to suckle its wounds
Endless blood thirst, Endless war
But not endless skin to bleed
Francie Lynch Sep 2018
I've used them on my windows
To see the clear outside,
If I read the Op-eds,
I shudder, shuttered and hide.

I've spread them 'neath my plates and cups,
My shelves all neat and tidy;
But the headlines made it clear to me
My glass is more half empty.

They had a place in the litter box
For **** to scratch and squat;
I laid them round my garden plants,
They made fine insect traps.
Rolled and twirled they'd start a fire,
I could fold them into hats.
They cleaned the grease from BBQs,
And they're safe to pick up glass.
Crumple them for packaging,
They work as school book covers;
Add water and some flour,
To shape papier mache lovers.
Fold seeds in them to germinate,
Then use them for compost;
There's many ways to employ
Your Times and local Post.

But I won't subscribe to Dailies
For the felling of our trees;
And yet I miss my papers,
And the ways they worked for me.
But when enthroned,
You'll hear me grouse,
There's no **** paper in this ****-house.

My cell works well to scroll and swipe,
But it's only good for a virtual wipe.
blackbox Jun 2014
There are times, when you want to cut-off from the world.
And there are times, when no one's around you to hold.

There are times, when you've a lot to say but words fall short.
And there are times, when you've nothing at all but you still have to talk.

There are times, when you're strong enough but too scared to fight.
And there are times, when you're weak but you do what's right.

There are times, when you feel like crying but tears don't fall off your eyes,
And there are times, when you're happy but can't laugh as a friend next to you cries.

There are times, when you don't want to reveal the secrets buried in your heart,
And there are times, when you want to share but nobody's close enough to be a part.

All I want to say is, I could have lived through all those times,
If you had just said, "I'm with you sweetheart, so everything's gonna be fine".
pk tunuri Feb 2018
You're the bravest I've ever known
I don't know what's hurting you to moan

When life was a problem, You stood tall
When there is a problem in life, You shall not fall

Stay strong my friend
Hard times are meant for the pain to end
We all face Hard Times.
Though it tries to knock you down,
all we have to do is "STAY STRONG".
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I was listening to a poet
reciting his poem “Times”.
He was pondering, could
it be like this and that?
Suddenly my cup of tea
happened to taste so sweet,
made me wonder why
wasn’t it such an edgy,
a while ago any time
before now just as tasty.

Where on a stony thorn
was it stuck this long?
It had to bloom just now,
so sweet a rose!  
No one predicted whether it
will rain or not, it just drops.
The sun, shedding clouds,
suddenly swims so low!

Pondering me, I could
then only digest it
accepting a truth:
It doesn’t matter when
the bees love to come out,
sit on the rose and fly.
For the time, its best bard
only sings on time!
zebra Aug 2018
i was told not to read that book
it said right there on the cover
that if i did
i would become a scourge
like a hidden genies dagger
the sight of which would terrorize some
and draw others to me
those strange few
who cry to feel it wound their flesh
and crave its rupturing cold edge
an obsession in motion
demanding they lose themselves in the rapture
of dangerous weapons of pleasure and pain
their kiss an obscenity

sure i thought

and as i read it anyway
it's words  
where like a cocked gun blasting
a slow-motion bullet
like a bomb in the skull  
shattering brains
with a storm of licking tongues
and kicking feet

my death scattered me
into a great light that casts a long shadow
of headless prancing nymphs
their menstruum,
kaleidoscopic winding red ribbons
fruits of both heaven and nightmares
like a river of elastic mouths
shifting form like chewed gum

thunder filled the house
a dark paradise found
lost in the realm of the senses
quaking and torn
from
this gleaming blade

its caress a sanctuary
pulled tight
over searching fingers
that roam for damp places
in a flickering daze
hiding a frozen scowl
in
impossible times
karin naude Apr 2013
How many more times do i have to repeat this pointless exercise of crying my eyes red and swollen due to a broken heart torn apart by grieve and regret.
How many times am i gonna dress in agony and despair and wait for the day to end. I'm glad when night falls. sleeping brings relief perceived. keep telling yourself this ****. The universe no longer listens to my repetitive crap of pain and lost glory days. I am 27 and long for my youth. How pathetic can someone be. Wallowing in self pity on the net for all to read. Is this my scream for help? this is the wrong platform don't I think.
How many times have i told myself the lie. I almost believe it. Just almost. Reality always brings me right back. Being in my twenties. I am plagued by indecision  fear and not knowing what to do. Feeling pressured 100% of the time. Finding no rest for a weary soul screaming for mercy. No, not love just mercy. You heard right. I will settle for the lesser and easier of the two. My God why have you forsaken me? I have asked this Q so many times. Still unanswered. I keep telling myself just make it to the next day time will heal my wounds and time will teach me how to beat my chest correctly without letting depression drag me down into the mud. Just make it to tomorrow. Be honest how many times have I thought about suicide only thing that stops me is what if i fail and i am left with a broken body. Lets be honest cutting sound real good now.
Pau Feb 2017
to you, my sweet,
my sunshine --
thank you.
for carrying me through the rough waters,
the rock bottom and my own perilous self --
for holding me with your steady hands
after i stumbled and fell into what felt like a chasm
filled with anxiety and despair
for being resolute,
despite my unwillingness to move --
thank you.

i do not know what i did, or what i have done,
to deserve someone so beautiful and kind.

for all that you did and all that you've done,
i will remember,
for always.
Christian Ek Jan 2015
I love to make someones day.
Let loose! Let loose! I say.
Choosing inspirational words i can make the stress go away.
Tonight is your night, the drinks I will pay.
Dress up in our finest clothes, kings and queens toast like a parade.
There is a party and everyone is going in the city of L.A.
A brother asked me "show me your best dance move" and I said okay.
And like an energetic crescent moon I changed the tidal waves with one move.
Just for you.
Because the good times roll when everyone can celebrate and no one hates.
along the lines, t'was paths that crossed
of fates to dust, the fates accost
probability - it just so happened
that I'd stumble across you  

of all the times and of all the chances
as winds would blow, a tree then dances
uncertainty - it just so happens
that I'd fall in love with you

as droughts would bring a land to famine
a love that grew though soils were barren
possibility - how could it happen?
that I'd fall again for you

times have past, we've spent the chances
the winds have blown, and comes the silence
surety - and so it happens
~I'd want to spend my life with you~
'time and chance happens to them all - Ecclesiastes 9:11
-
'fate, to us all. destiny, to each his own''
-
r May 22
Fire and wind
of close bullets
tornados, floods, rain
I. C. E. with eyes
sharp as barbed wire
dead souls walking
those pale corridors
with an odor
the color of bone
and skin off the backs
of the poor
in their pockets
like rawhide, they are
rolling, rolling, rolling
***** of dung along
carrying briefcases
full of batshit
and other secret
pestilence yet to come.
Debbie Brindley May 2017
There's times of extreme happiness
Lifes filled with song, dance and sound
There's times of extreme anger
Please keep your eyes to the ground
There's times his face distorts with hostility
He's so filled with rage
His behavior he can not help
His behavior he can not gauge
There's times of great confusion
About his life he hasn't got a clue
There's times of not remembering
The face of his best friend and his mother too
There's times his body aches
from the constant walking he must do
There's times of great fatigue
from taking care of you
There's times people tell me I should put him in a home
But how do I do that and leave him there alone
So that's not going to happen because he's staying right here
With his wife who loves him and my sister who holds him dear
Samuel Hoffmann Dec 2016
An ode to the dark times,
The downtrod dark days.
The ones when it's humid,
Or just cloudy and gray.

When you want to give up,
And do nothing all day.
When you want to move on,
But you just can't walk away.

When everything goes wrong,
And nothing ever seems right.
When you're so fed up,
But you won't accept advice.

To the mean ones,
the jerks.
The boring,
And the lame.

An ode to the dark times,
The downtrod dark days.
The Lost Poet Jul 2015
I've wrote this a thousand times
I've erased this a thousand times,
You shouted at me a thousand times,
You laughed with me a thousand times,
You held me a thousand times,
You protected me a thousand times,
You guided me a thousand times,
You told me it will be okay a thousand times, You wiped my tears a thousand times,
You told me to smile a thousand times,
You told me you wouldn't leave me a thousand times.
You told me you would stay by my side a thousand times
You left and now I cry for you a thousand times..
I often wonder what my Wiki entry
will say about me, if at all.
"November, nineteen-ninety-four
to two-thousand-and-whenever."
Someday, sometime. It sits in my mind.

So we chase sublime.

Can't catch me ‘cause I'm smoke.
Far off the beaten path,
Come find us and have a ****;
At our abandoned enclave, on the balcony
as the starry lake shimmers graciously.
Heaven is decrepit,
I shall elope elsewhere;
By myself if need be (should
no one want or will have of me).
ottaross Jun 2016
We went to a play last week

Actors strutted around

Among a set of tall buildings

Made of actual stone of grey

And billowing smoke

And noises

And crowds.


Upon the great stage they talked

About their ancient ideas

Like wars

And politics

And freedom.

In one scene an actor yelled

and swung a mighty hand

and struck the other man!


And though we knew

It was really just acting

The idea that one

Could hit another

Shocked all of us in the audience
So powerfully

And a few people even left

The theatre

In tears.

But there were funny bits too

In the play that night.

A character said he had a car.

His Own. 
Personal. 
Car!

And together they were to drive

Both of them

Off to an aeroport.

Like with all the steering,

And foot pedals,

And everything.

And in a very sad part

Someone treated someone else badly

And called her names

Because of the colour

Of her skin

And because she had come

From somewhere else.

And all our eyes were wet for a while.

One man used a device

Which was an ancient komputer.

Two flat parts with a hinge

And it opened upon his lap

And one side glowed brightly

To illuminate his face

And he presses a bunch of button-keys

To spell words and things

Because that’s how they told the

Komputer

What to do.

And we all laughed.

when it was over a bunch of us asked the man that was hit if he was okay was he really okay it looked terrible and did they really have to do that awful thing in the play and was the other actor a bad man and he said no, it was alright and the other actor was a nice man and that it didn’t hurt at all and he said he was sorry that it scared us but it was the violence of the time and the people of that time and we said we kind of understood.

And we all felt better


But one lady

Still needed to hug him.

And his eyes

Were a little wet too.
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