Signs and Wonder

People say they never saw the signs
but they weren't listening to the cries
the pleas. 
The begging for reasons and the heartfelt petitions that people stop eating each other. 
Stop devouring the souls of another
Stop wasting lives and breaking souls in the pursuit of orgasm.
The selfishness of mankind has embedded within me an eternal sorrow. 
The craven dominance of the flesh, the mockery in the pursuit of being worshipped as gods. 
It grinds me into dust. 
People say that they never saw the signs,
as they hurry from one triviality to the next 
drunken on the pursuit of avoidance of reality 
How could we have missed this they utter at the shock of one taking their own life 
"Why didn't they speak up" they ask among ears drowned with noise and bickering. 
Maybe it isn't from isolation, but the bombardment of being surrounded with broken sicknesses. 
Wave upon wave of the tides of usury drowning hope and light. 
 How could they have missed this... 
A man of laughter and love, losing his war with life. 

Christian Discourse

There's a war raging from the pulpit to the pew
Swords drawn in hands of a righteous few 
Battles rage against ideals, truth, and deceptions 
Servants of God clash against wolves directions. 

The wounds bled are heavy and deep 
Among those who labor among God's sheep. 
To teach men well to feed their souls
Rather than amass wealth to fill vacant holes. 

Predators fleece the flock and distort sacred texts
Delusions rampant, pride loud, the discerning vexed. 
They sit with bow ties, tweed vests, and apostacy 
Casting reels with non-truth as if to bait me. 

I clash and wage war with unlearned men 
that those with eyes may not follow them 
I study to show where I myself be wrong 
Accepting correction is an isolating song 

Truth in ways blinds you with all who cant see
It will grieve you at the lost, the cost, to be free. 
Churches are many, but stocked with so few men 
That grieve and confess and despise their own sin 

I'm no righteous man, for sin daily pains me in my heart 
As God be true and men liars I labor for light in the dark. 

Breaking Good Men

They want to preserve good men,

But not love them. 

They'll fan their hands over their eyes,

That they might shield them from looking upon their naked promiscuity. 

They'll shroud them in protective wear,

Until they're suffocating. 

They want to preserve good men,

The way a wealthy man might surround himself with expensive things. 

They must convince themselves these men be dull or blind, for why else pray tell would they be. 

These seat themselves among those innocent loves, holding them in a light they refuse to see. 

They want to preserve the good men,

The way they value antiquated artifacts.

They'll smile when they're in the room,

Then whisper behind their backs. 

Confusion clouds them, where chaos flows...

They're breaking good men, for reasons no one knows

Swept by Night

She says she's too drunk on beer and high on coke.
I can tell by the way she moves that its the truth. 
Irony brought to life slinging darts at the wall, 
and I laugh at it as if it were a joke. 
They're chasing a ruse through flesh 
biting arms and chewing through needs
Snorting powder and seeking something only God can fill. 

Beauty and sex are at war with each other 
dogfighting for dominance and desire. 
Most these women want to be cocaine, 
chased and coveted, tasted for purity 
They're trying to draw love from memory-
in a mind that's been too cloudy to remember it. 
 
Fulfillment is a concept that is understood like hunger, 
or Absence, or Abandonment. 
A searching for something that should be there but is beyond the fingertips. 

She knocks a glass from the table that shatters the way truth hits lies. 
The broken glass is a reflection of themselves. Shards of light forsaking purpose.
Jagged and jaded, swept away by the night. 

Lingering

In goodbye she embraces me slowly and sweet 
Gently caressing me as she kissed my cheek 
Swearing fidelity to promises she won't keep 
And in a moment I'm captivated. 

Her beauty bleeds out past cigarettes
Blonde strands escape her barretts 
Her eyes alight with a love not met
and I'm curiously invigorated. 

A smile holds a balance of dark and light
Reaching friends in lectures turned to fights
A bold love straddling what's true and right 
and I observe the dynamic is complicated. 

She's a woman, feminine yet and still kind
She speaks and moves with a grace in time
Making her marks in memories and minds
...as I find my resistance is devastated. 

A little Sleep and Slumber

 We’re setting our clocks for doomsday and sleeping away our lives. Walking in fear through the worlds shadows, small from mockery by evils despised We’ve chosen to fellowship with death, throwing half a lot in the plate, Seldom giving a second breath to insight that God controls our fate.

We dance in these silhouettes,
drunk on wine and anxiety
Dressed in our best presumptions
and self adorned piety.

We champions ourselves as masters of doctrines,
We mask ourselves in boastful lies
We hide from our ineffectual existence
surrounded by the lost that we despise.

We're setting our clocks for doomsday, and sleeping our lives away.
Choking on plastic identities, damned by all that we didn't say.

The Angels light

Her eyes hold wisdom and beauty like the constellations set at creation by God's own hand.
I searched every house of light to no avail. 
Just to find her glowing in the dark. 
To hold her hand in the starlight,
unified in purpose. 
Words are too heavy to speak, 
I am tongue-tied in silent admiration. 
She adorns herself in the beauty of God
and resiliant humanity. 

I yearn to traverse the starlight,
in the quiet forming of the shape of love.
to hold the warmth of the heart in a moment
To contrast the cold of the dark