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Karma Oct 6
The scent of sin
Is ripe in man,
Yet the vision isn’t there.
The scent of sin
Rains burning sand
Yet the sinner fails to care.
The scent of sin
Consumes the land
For at nothing does it halt.
The scent of sin
Is spread by hand
For they build top pillars of salt.
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.
Ylzm Apr 2019
The strong, ordained, as the sword evil feared.
Today evil's lawless, nations cowered.
Balaam lives, the strong loves self shamelessly.
***** shall rise and condemn, righteously.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2018
Scoundrels and rascals
All decked out in pastels
And Brooks Brothers suits
With cufflinks to boot
And five hundred dollars ties
Thinking that makes them wise;
Just one of the rich guys
And nobody to question them,
Never harrumph or an ahem
Because they are above it all,
No boring trips to the mall
They depend on their buyers
And other expensive liars
To tell them how cheap it is
To engage in this dressing biz,
For them to buy for the guy
And never ask why so high.

After all, it’s Armani, not Guess
So why should they confess
That they are smarter than him
The guy they work for is so dim
He pays whatever they say.
After all, he can afford to pay.
Even the water his maid gets
Is so high quality, one forgets
It is only hydrogen and oxygen
Not something created by men;
Probably bottled from the tap.
He never knows he is a sap
That falls for the television ads.
He will die completely glad.

It is so ****-hardening for him
To sup in restaurants so dim
He hardly notices how small
The costly portions are at all.
He lets them uncork the wine
And brays about how fine
The taste and the vintage,
Not caring the damage
It does to his Diner’s card.
This kind of life is not hard.
Plus he gets to go tomorrow
And wreak more sorrow on
Constituents and other peons
And wreak his own opinion
Even though he is but a minion
Doing exactly what he is told.
As long as he rakes in the gold.

Later, a bit under the influence
He'll revel in the confluence
Of a lack of conscience, and
Socially accepted concupiscence
At an appropriate gathering
Where there is a smattering
Of propriety and morality
That allows rented geniality
And permits him to rise up
And drink too many cups
While he beats his chest
Just like all of the rest
And call for the dancers
To come and surrender
To their oh-so rightful rapine
That won’t make the magazines.
Tawanda Mulalu Aug 2015
I would have rather been Orpheus,
travelling to various hells for you
and singing songs to save you
even though you couldn't save yourself:
stop looking back. The flames aren't worth it.
Let my eyes burn brighter than the abyss.
Just whatever you do don't turn your face
away Eurydice. Hades will have his Persephone
and you are not her.

It's better this way I guess. I would have looked
back at you and watched you crumble into
a shadowy pillar of salt as did the wife of Lot
when she looked back at *****. I am faithless,
which is why I cannot sing like Orpheus. I am faithless,
which is why I would have watched you melt into
a shadowy memory of the underworld even if I could.

Instead, I was a messenger of these strange myths.

Wings on my feet, I raced against the multitudinous
skylines of the worlds I do not inhabit, skipped across
volumes and volumes of rows and columns of planets and
stars written by dead old men and women. They spoke presently
of the voluminous presence their absence had created, and did so
without having known of the secrets of this absence when
they wrote about their respective presents. Presents conferred
to winged-feet wishful thinkers who spiral uncontrollably with their mouths
to sudden and dangerous depths: Every serious reader remembers
the time they stopped whispering controversies and started shouting them
without knowing that they were shouting them: Ideas are messy things
that don't need loudspeakers: Decibels violently shudder themselves out
of being the moment you mention to your mother that God
might not exist and Camus said so: Existence itself implodes outwards
like how plants produce seeds that make themselves when novels
start at their ends which are really their beginnings: Children
**** their mothers through birth: Boys with wings on their feet
take the library too seriously.

This is
          how
and
          where
I flew towards you without a chariot

and found you in your various hells, one book at a time,
and why I would have rather have been Orpheus
because at least then I could have sang you songs
before you ended up retreating back into your various
selves. It could have been my fault then for looking back.

It could have been,
   could have been,
   could have been
you that was Orpheus. You who looked back.
You being the reason that I crumbled into a pillar of
shadow and salt because, as did Lot's wife, I looked back.

We both did, and watched the whole world invert itself
on its axis, then turn and twist and shift itself
into superimposed images and shapes and dreams
that changed you from muse to poet and
dream to dreamer
and Eurydice to Orpheus
and to Lot then his wife
and to this: which you always were.

              Those wings on your feet: When
the librarians changed the positions of the bookshelves-
and therefore our imaginations: our movements
and stanzas and scenes and days and nights-
               Those wings on your feet: When
that happened they must have stopped fluttering
for a second. I tried flying again and fell.

I haven't been much of a messenger since.
Mess, mess and more mess I guess.
brandon nagley Aug 2015
America
Modern day ***** and gomorrah;
And soon, ourn great nation, and world, shalt feeleth the shaking.
In the Book of Genesis, the two evil cities that God destroyed with a rain of fire and brimstone (sulfur). Before the destruction, God sent two angels in the form of men to advise all good men to leave the evil towns. God's messengers found only one good man, Lot, whom they transported from ***** to the countryside with his wife and daughters, warning them not to look back. When Lot's wife, not heeding the warning, looked back, she became a pillar of salt. And for you who think that's some myth. The stories had all truth in them. As the cities have both been found by archeological finders. And also not just that around that time a meteor was recorded to explode over those cities... Also there is a real pillar of salt that looks like a women next to one of cities.. Showing all factual evidence!!! It's astounding truth!!!

Note : ****** was  practiced in the wicked city of *****.

If you look around america this is what ourn country has become... And for those who say God wouldn't do bad to people well ***** and the other city was exactly like America they kept doing wrong sleeping around with another in lust! Sleeping with eachother! Parties drinking getting high everyone with another all one big **** really!!! And it's called karma. You continue to do wrong then wrong will come to you. It's called modern day karma... as mine God spoke you shalt reap what you sow. Meaning good or bad. We will reap for our actions and words!!!! As yes many have met Christ even his father God in life after death experiences by the millions and have came back to tell of his love and how he's made of love... Though Christ is also warning them to tell people he's çoming soon and by the millions take look on YouTube the clocks on 11:59 almost midnight people need to awake what's happening!!! As the bible spoke of day of atonement .. Yeah coming to America and world very shortly sadly

— The End —