The Void: Heart Strings

Reaching into the chasms,
reaching into the Void.
My heart twitches, spasms.
Something is getting tugged.
The strings of my heart are pulled.
Now it can dance, now it can sing.
I now look upon the King.
Full of freedom, full of love.
Full of something that fell from above.

That is what I see.
That is what I hope.
With that, I can cope.

The Void: A Shocking Thought

A fish like that of and old newness.
A fish from the deep blueness.
Into the shallows it has come.
Shock waves in the water.
All is not well, this is not happening.
This fish, a daddy's daughter.
He will be angry, I am angry at myself.
Why have I done this? I am so dumb!
How could this happen I do not know,
but it has to stop. It has to go!
For if not, a bomb would surely blow!

The Face of Evil

This is a poem I wrote for one of my drawings called the Face of Evil.

Evil deep within its eyes, emanating hate.
A wicked grin amongst the gnarled skin.
Coaxing the victim into a deep rut, sin.
Like a snake, its eyes, hypnotizing.
Drawing in its prey, licking cracked lips.
Dread it is, this thing. This evil.
The Face of Evil rearing its ugly head.
Today is not the day for it, today is mine!
Seize the day! Seize the hour!
Seize Evil by the neck with God's power!

Life

A new chapter, a new year!
A new adventure, given to me
by life herself.
A wonderful thing it is, life.
I have no idea what I'd do
without it.
New experiences day in and
day out.
How wonderful it is to live!

Ocean Storm

Deep in the confines of my mind
is where I go to fester, to unwind.
But the sea, it's getting worse.
The storm inside me is raging.
A great eye stares down at me
from the clouds.
The flaming sword and that quiet
beach come back to my vision.
Lightning calls to its brother,
Descend upon him!
A great thunder fills my chest,
I am about to explode.
I can feel it in my being.
The storm is about to be let free.
The storm I try to hold, to keep
packed away.
In the ocean it lies, like a shark
waiting for a chance to attack.
Festering, brewing...scheming.
Is this what Father spoke of?
The ocean in all of its madness?
The sea in all of its anger?
The river in all of its strength?
In the eye of the storm now, that
eye is now bigger than ever, staring
down at me from the clouds.
For now, there is peace. But soon,
the storm will escape, and I will be
powerless to stop it.

The Great Scheme: The Battle

Like an ocean beach, they come in waves.
The valley wolves, with their red eyes
and black fangs.
Today will be long and hard.
Mountain wolves gather from every
corner of the four winds.
The howls seem to be coming from
the valley itself.
The Warriors and their re-found Lost
emerge from the thicket, bloodied
and bruised.
The sun climbs over the horizon,
and with it, the valley wolves.
Their sharp, red claws, clicking on
the sun-warmed stone.
They charge, their teeth bared
and their hackles raised.
Like a black wave, they defy the wind.
Time for war.
The Warriors' group will not make it!
They must attack now.
Howling, the mountain wolves charge
into battle, biting and clawing and
growling.

The sun, falling down from the sky.
The battle is over.
Battered and broken, the mountain
wolves are victorious.
Patches of fur missing, they climb
back up the mountain, to their Lord.
The valley is quiet...for now.

The Great Scheme: The Wanderer's Journey

Lost in a desert filled with snow.
In a swamp filled with sand.
In a tundra so hot, I'm shivering.
Left for dead by the wolves.
Left to live alone by my loved ones.
Left to fight the wilderness...alone.
Left to the Lost...all is lost.
Lost I am among the shadowy trees.
Lost I am, among the scraggly mountain
peaks.
Lost to those who are left. Lost to
those who once knew me.
My face, fading in their memory.
Their face, burning in mine.
Where have you gone?
I need you now...
The mountain looks over me,
taunting my spirit.
Climb me! Scale me! I dare you!
My knees, gashed, my hands, numb.
Not even half way there.
Boulders grind my bones,snakes strike,
scorpions sting.
Halfway there now...
My last breath I breathe, I need rest.
A man descends, it is not your time!
A breath of life, I am reborn!
I crush them under foot, those vile
beasts.
A Wanderer I am no longer, but
a warrior, yes!
I want to enter the door, but there
is something the man wants me to do.
Go to those many who are in the valleys,
the prey for the wolves.
Tell them about the mountain, I must.
The mountain wolves will protect them
along the way.
No, not a warrior, a wandering warrior!

Being There

Sitting on the sidelines, I watch you fight.
Amongst the lost, the posers, the warriors.
Some friend I am, that I sit and watch
instead of come to your aid.
I wish I could, but...you're so far away.
Some friend they are, that they would
stab you in the ribs for a petty price.
The rage I feel inside me drowns out
all else.
You fall, but I cannot pick you up.
No, that is God's job. All I can do
is be there for you.

The Highest of Highs

In the highest of highs,
The Lord sits on his vast
throne and waits.
Waits for the day he will
reclaim the world.
To rid it of the evil that
has wreaked mass carnage
and made deep pits in
the earth.
Pits filled with all manner
of darkness.
The day he takes us into
the Heavens, is the day
I long await.
To pass the pearly gates.
To look upon the golden
streets.
How wonderful!

Inspired by: the song Higher. By: Creed

Creatures and Man

Lo! The creatures do
speak with not-so foreign tongues.
I do wonder at the simplicity
of such magnanimous creatures.
That they would only eat when
need be and only think of
the time that is now.
How I wish I had that train
of simple thought.
But no, such things are for
beasts and the like.
They need not be frightened
of man for man is too frightened
of himself to think of them.
How I marvel at their spirit of
loyalty and treachery.
For loyalty is not seen in a man's.
Only treachery.
There may be some fleck of love
in man's heart, but only a fleck.
A fleck among a sea of soul.
In this sea, a boat in which the
spirit rows, fighting the waves.
In a creatures, love overflows.
Unconditional is their love.
Maybe, one day will we walk
together and praise the Creator
in the forests, valleys, mountains,
seas, lakes, and rivers.
That will be a day most joyous
in my heart.

Looking at Life in Poetic Form

In the beginnings of the end,
All seems lost, but hope.
For, in the end of the end.
The light will come to thee
in swiftness of death.
For death is just another
path to the life we all have.
Mortal life is just a block
in the road to eternal life.
Seeing this is another road
we all must take eventually.
Remember this one thing:
Life is a boot camp and
the instructor is none other
than the Lord himself.
Wishing to see the past
is the wall that keeps us
from growing to meet the
future.

The Smoke of Religion

Religion rules this sorry little town.
The people wear masks, like clowns.
The trees long for the the spirit of Father.
The animals want to be stirred, all a bother.
The strict harshness of no expression, death.
Please God, breathe life with each breath.
For our spirits are choking in the smoke of religion.

The Edge of the World

The edge of the world, how vast and deep.
It ends, right behind that corn, just seems to seep.
The robin on the wire, contemplates his life silently.
The sky, at his struggle, thunders a laugh violently.
The sparrow on the road, with his broken wing.
In his heart he knows that in Heaven, he will sing.
The squirrel looks down from his tree, full of pity.
Pity for the animals that live in the polluted city.
The bees buzz busily. Going from flower to flower.
Seeing all of this out the window, I feel sour.
But they give no heed to me, the animals. No way.
For they have their own problems, i have no say.
All I can do, is sit back and watch behind this glass.
I cannot feel the feeling of green, lush grass.
I cannot tell the robin his life is meaningful to me.
I cannot help that poor sparrow become free.
I cannot let the squirrel and I share feelings.
I cannot even aid the bees in their dealings.
All I can do, is sit, at the edge of the world.
and watch these stories like they have unfurled.

The Path

Living in a land where black and white don't exist.
The ground is covered in a sheet of ominous mist.
I can't see the ground, but there is a man guiding me.
He says he can lead me to a land to live and be free.
He pulls a lantern out of air and leads me down the path.
With a shield does he protect me from the Dark's wrath.
With sword in hand, does he chop away at hateful Thorn.
Of His son who sacrificed himself for those mortally born.
On that slip of road, I fell in love and got forever reborn.
My Jewish brethren, this truth oh how you must see!
If you don't, the Dark will surely be on a slaughter spree.
In the days of my city life I was given my gifts of the arts.
In this poem has He given me the gift of worship through heart.
Now, I sit here in this town, thinking of the future; what is in store?
I can only say this for the future...I will want you more and more.

Close Friends and Long Gone Friends

The times I share,
with people who care
are the memories
I want to remember.
They are the presents
of my Christmas December.
My friends of the past have come and went.
My recent days I have spent,
trying to forget their pain.
They made me go half insane.
But now, I cast a veil on those days.
For those were the days of blacks and grays.

A Tribute to the My Life in Evansville

These six years have flown by.
As fast as wind can sigh.
My memories, good and bad.
Some glad, some sad.
But one thing, I do know.
I will miss this town so.
Even though, a prison is it.
Past years have been full of wit.
The snow storm I remember most,
and waking up to the smell of burnt toast.
The earthquake that sent ripples down my spine.
How I learned of God's wonderful design.
How I found my writing talent.
And how my spirit became so gallant.
When I began to discover art.
When I was considered smart.
When I first met Megan and Scott.
Me, they forgot.
But now, everything is fine.
For they have found their own signs.
Austin and Tyler I did meet.
Tyler's weird thing with feet.
Austin, he's a funny guy.
Funny...but very shy.
When I went to drama/dance.
My social skills, did those friends enhance.
Kansas City was a blast.
At ATC, did I make friends fast!
I met a special someone there.
Now, not seeing her, is my despair.
I try to move on, but it's so hard.
My mind, she has scarred.
But do I remember my friends of late!
First, there's Jordyn. Man, she's great.
We talk about God and life.
I hope we never cause strife!
Then there's Katie and Tess.
They're the one's that help me with stress.
Then, Elyse is last.
I'm still waiting for her to get her cast.
She's awesome, like a sister.
If she ever left, I would have missed her.
Justice, my nephew, is where I stop with this tale.
I love him. If he were to go, my heart would fail.
Now, onward to Poseyville! A small town.
I hope there, my parents will grow silver crowns!
Back to the drawing board is it?
This is going to cause a great fit.
Now, I say goodbye to you!
For some packing I have to do!

The One that Loves

What is life but a boot camp?
Is this not true?
That we must be trained
for something we are not ready for?
That death is just another road to life?
Well. I do know one thing.
I cannot live without you.
If I cannot have you, then...
well, I wouldn't know what to do.
I wish my dreams would come true...
but don't we all wish that?
I need you now more than ever.
For Satan thinks he's being clever.
My flame is an amber, dying in the cold.
My flame is small, little, and old.
Feed my spirit a fresh bundle of wood.
I would do it myself if I could.
But I need you for all time.
For you are the one that loves.

Humble Love

Now see my world split.
To reality, my dreams submit.
My passion, crushed underfoot.
Imagination, grayed by soot.
My iron will turns brittle.
My mind, does Earth belittle.
Creativity, beaten and broken.
My agony is unspoken.
But I experience this everyday.
This horrible thing you call disarray.
For in my weakness, I am strong.
And, to put it simply, for love, I do long.
So here, a humble man comes before you.
Asking for you to keep loving him the way you do.

A Revelation

Dreams are my reality.
Reality is my dreams.
Life is lost to me.
Losing is life to me.
The mask I wear is me.
This expression, set.
In my dreams I would have met
a young man who hasn't a clue.
But, I would like to start anew.
But life is lost to those who lose,
and if losing is my life...I live!

The Story of the Ages

I would like to tell a story.
A story of truth and glory.
But first I must elaborate.
There is also great hate.
Of course, I digress.
There is much stress.
But, of that, enough!
For this tale is full of fluff.
The race we run is life.
We must run around strife.
Sometimes things go badly.
That is the full truth, sadly.
But that truth, only part of it.
So please, listen to this and sit.
For this poem will teach you much.
For, your heart, the Lord will touch.
Be mindful, and keep a good pace.
For, if you do, you will win the race!
That is the glory I have, so long ago, told.
Then, when death catches up, streets of gold!
That is the story God still so easily recites.
Rejoice! For God's glory! Satan, He smites!

Painful Abandonment

Alone, I walk this road.
I guess this is how I must live.
This is the life of a wanderer.
How......deeply lonesome.
My friends have abandoned me.
I now realize now that I am not free.
My life is bereft of happiness I forebode.
But that does not mean you should despair.
For you have a full life to lead under God's care.
I am one of the few that must experience God's pain.
I do not know this to be true....but can feel it.
For here, right now, do I write. In this chair do I sit.

A Jealous God

Thunder!
How you tear the sky asunder!
Wreak havoc on the world, show us God's anger!
That it would fall to its knees and repent for its wrongdoing.
Dance in the sky with your brother lighting and create the most awesome fear.
The clouds do look over the horizon at God's anger. At his love, do they also fearfully peer.

Complex, the love of the Lord.
As complex as a hundred edged sword.
For his anger is love, a jealous love it is called.
But not that of a negative jealousy, that of a pure jealousy.
That of which a husband has a deep, loving jealousy for his wife.
We understand much more than we believe, but still do not grasp life.

Now I laugh under the black storm's hate anger.
For I do not fear that which cannot harm me.
I am protected by the Lord our God.
His jealousy lies deep within.
Now the battle rages...

A Fellow Wanderer

Hail, sly, witty fox.
I see you are very much awake.
I ask that your wits and cunning I could take.
For the question needing answered is in need of wits.
I do not have them for my mind has been found many pits.
I am Glad that the Lord has given you to us, the human race.
For if you were not here, I would be lost forever, I greatly fear.

I wish I could speak to you longer.
But I see you, as well, like to wander.
If only we could wander together but no!
We have different roads to travel, mine high, yours low.
So I say to thee cunning fox, may your flaming feet never tire.
May the Lord teach you things you would take back to your brethren.
Goodbye!

The Gift of Peace

Peace, a feeling I will never understand.
But yet, I feel something is happening.
That I would remember the peace I felt
As a child first learning of God and his love.
Maybe peace comes from the highest above.
Regardless of the happenings of this world,
I can look to the skies for the peace I long for.

Yet you, you do not realize this gift.
This treasure He has bestowed on us.
I cannot fathom such a blindness.
That you would not see this bounty.
I only pray you will find it,
for He is waiting for you to see.

Memory

Well met wise, old owl.
I suspect your memories, foul.
Yet you treasure them like they are jewels.
I Now realize trying to forget ourselves is for fools.
Our stories show who we are, and that is a great gift given us.
So why do we toil with the toiling of the world. Why so, do we fuss?

The memories of today end.
The memories of tomorrow begin.
Today we must fight the good old fight.
Tomorrow we must join and praise with our kin.
For each memory is a memory and that is very much alright.

Now old owl, what do you please?
Should I stay here and learn more from our God?
Or should I travel on in search of more great revelation?
Should I pull more of this worldly veil away? This fictional facade?

Bortherhood and Fatherhood

I say hello to thee wolf brother.
I admire you more than any other.
Your coat, shiny white, a twinkle in the night.
Eyes of the deepest depths of the midnight forest.
You're passion for the hunt of souls, the most sorest.
The Lord Must be happy He created such a beautiful creature.

How are the cubs? Well I presume
They are to grow strong, just like their dad.
Running around on the quickest foot and softest pad.
They are your life no doubt. Wishing I had that.
But not for me! Fatherhood is no gift to me!
Although happy I would be.

Alas! I must tarry no longer.
For my love of travel grows stronger.
I have yet the fox family to visit!
You have your children to tend to.
So long wolf brother!
A story, we may meet in another.

The Tree

Hello there, oh glorious tree!
In an instant, you would take the heart of me.
But not today, for I journey on a different road than yourself.
Yes! I know that you are a wanderer yourself! A very good one at that.
For your reflexes are, like a turtle, very slow. But your hearing, like a cat.
Your leaves quiver at the slightest message the wind brings to your outstretched arms.

What have you seen?
I know you wish me to think you not keen.
But I have seen your root-like heart, you cannot fool me.
You know, you have life by the roots, you have the lustrous key.
What have the birds that nest in your arms told in your knothole ears?
To a tree, nothing is threatening. But I know you, what are your greatest fears?
Is it the sharp, shiny blade of the hatchet?
The fire that stretches across the land, devouring all in a drought?
The roar of a sickly dead chainsaw?
Or the gaping of a homestead's maw?

But do not fear!
For the Lord is come,
and to him you must always run.
But the journey to Him, is, to me, just as fun.

Now, speaking of a journey, I must go.
For The Lord is calling me to His throne!
Take heart and let your roots grow deep!

Conversation with a Squirrel

Hullo, I say to thee young squirrel.
Have yourself a jolly old, enjoyable time.
That you would scamper about like no mime.
Collecting nuts for Winter's coming of ice and indoor mice!
Make your nest large and be mindful of those thieving raccoons.
Make your bed under the full, bright, midnight moon.

I am back, and it is spring again!
The flowers bloom, you must get up!
You must share your humble home with these men!
Even though they chop it down without the quickest of thoughts.
What evil toil we have brought upon you, are minds have not caught.
Seeing through your eyes, I see what would have been a wonderful meadow.
But the confines of man have brought you something....a ghetto.

Is this what happens?
That the forest would be ripped away?
Only to expose bare rock, and grimy, gritty clay?
I do believe the Earth doe not enjoy this, not one bit.
It would be better if we were left to our caves, I admit.
But that must not happen, for you and I both know what God has said.
That man must take dominion over the Earth. But still we leave the trees dead?

They used to whisper of stories.
Stories of honor and loyalty and glory.
But not now, for men have used them for house chow.
But you, you can still hear them, only you can hear their cries.
It must be agony, for you must hear of the tree that slowly dies.
Yet still you are happy. Like a shield against a thousand blows.
Now, you doze...

The Wanderer's Mind

The Wind has told me a story.
Of exploring and great glory.
But first, I must follow it.

The gleaming city fades away,
Appear do the country leaves of May.
The Wind has led me down paths unreachable,
by man, by bird, by wolf, this is unteachable.

The clouds roll by in shades of blue and gray.
The road becomes soil, vanish do stacks of hay.
Vanish do farms,
Vanish do crops,
Vanish do sky,
Vanish dew drops.
Vanish does everything.

The road seems to stop, lazily,
as I seem to walk, hazily.
In my mind, the land I see is wonderful,
in others, they see nothing,
a black, empty space.
Full of a boring nothingness.
I see a playground!
full of things to explore and do!

Conversation with a Bee

Hello Monsieur Bee!
sorry to ruin your pollen spree.
to a tolerable degree, you don't mind me.
Don't worry, I won't be in these flowers for long.
I have another road, all the way to the state Tennessee!
A long way to go on foot you may be thinking in your simple brain.
But how I wish I were you! No Problem, no troubles, no worries, I can be free!

How is your family?
Darting around like rabbits I'm sure.
I can't believe through the winter you can endure!
With all of those tiny little bodies shaking and shimmering.
In the Summer all of that honey on your walls must greatly glimmer!
With a light so shiny bright it must give you quite a great, astonishing fright!
I'd imagine it to be beautiful, like the twinkling stars in a cloudless, full moon night.

Speaking of beautiful, have you seen the jewel that lives down the road?
Her eyes so twinkly bright, burning with a deepness of starry shinning soul-fire.
It is something that strikes awe into me, something I strongly, affectionately admire.
Her voice so melancholy sweet, rising like a wave of water, defying the dam of shyful thought.
Her smile blotting out the sun, with its radiance clouding that of the brightest candle in the world
But Now I must go, for the wind calls to me, and more of its story I have unfulred.
Take heart and do not give up. For there is a better life for you over the horizon!

Forgotten Days

The days blur,
Memory gives them no glance.
A wanderer's mind...how lonely.

I walk these streets, searching for myself.
What am I doing here?
A remembrance it is...my old self.
How everything was so simple...

The old days are forgotten...
The new days perish,
All is gone...except for today.
I stand as myself...but not.
I stand for something...but don't.
I am remembered...but am not...

Is this life?
That I might perish in the days of yesterday?
That memories should burn in fiery ash?
Is this truly life?

Something is Missing

There is a hole in my world,
a rip in the existence of me.
Where did it come from?
WHY is this happening?
Did I do something wrong?
God is still with me...
what is missing?

A Prayer

Do you see these lines between you and me?
How they separate us?
How they tear us apart?
How even the smallest slip up brings us to our knees?
Why oh why are they there?
These lines that torture us both?
That you would turn away from me,
and I would turn a deaf ear to you.
Our friendship is gone...
between us no more friendly growth.
I pray this is not what happens.

Thank God for Life!

My old ways are dead to me.
Thank God.
The gifts he has given me are a blessing.
The gumball tree,
my pencil, my paper,
my poems,
my family,
my friends,
my art,
my life.
Thank God for Life!

Beneath the Gumball Tree

My feelings, I cannot account for.
Nor that of my own thinking,
for my mind is too vast for me
to delve into.
Or is it my soul?
My spirit?
Am I afraid of what I might find?
Will it mortify me?
I should think not,
for who does not know their own self?
I don't.
Only me; only I.
I feel the rest of the world
has left me behind.
To chew on my thoughts
beneath the gumball tree.

The Overthrow of Evil

Crouching in the grass,
long forgotten,
is evil.
It lays in wait.
The long march to Hell's gate,
seems forever long.
Then, light comes.
A battle against the old enemies!
Smashing and clashing.
Dashing and crashing.
The Hoods are strong,
but the Wings are stronger.
Prisoners, wide eyed.
Hoods shriek,
for their strength is meek.
Their situation, bleak.
Desperately clawing,
desperately gnawing,
their gnashing teeth cease.
The light has won,
now, darkness must run.
Another kingdom, destroyed.

A Dedication to the Lost

Alone I am not, but yet, I am.
Hopefully these friends are not shams.
For I owe little to them,
but thank them nonetheless.

Here I live, in this torn land,
standing in the ashes of the Lost.
Scorning the hand of the Evil One,
pitying those whom he has roused.
Loving them, even.
For nothing, they believe in.

The sunny shores of Tomorrow tempt me,
but still, these Lost bring me back
to the days of today.
I wish that they would live a happy life.
But the The evil one feeds them strife.
I weep for them.
for their lives,
for their loves,
for their Lost,
for their lies...
for their spirit.

Light Will Always Prevail!

The fallen have come.
With swords of fire, shields of ash.
The angels set upon them,
with blades of light, eyes of fury.
People pass by, not taking heed.
They cannot see what lies before them.
In the dark the fallen shriek,
Their strength is bleak.
For the light will always prevail!

No More Fear!

I no longer fear you.
That burning carcass.
Tat evil being.
That fallen angel.
You try to trick me,
you try to trip me,
But nay I say!
For the Lord is my God
and you could never surpass Him!

Heaven on Earth

Forests are what I seek.
Even though meek.
Misty woods,
Even though bleak.
Calm are the trees.
Wind playing in their leaves.
Birds sing together,
in their great churches of wood.
Badgers feast together,
in their halls of stone and mud.
Rabbits, eating little flower buds.
A doe and her fawn,
running into the misty dawn.
This is Heaven on Earth...
and you gave it, as a gift.

Nothing

Nothing is how I feel right now.
I'm not empty, But not full.
Inside me there is no raging bull.
Not even confusion, as there often is.
Just nothing.
A black hole.
2-D space.
3-D soul.
It's very strange.
Stars of light twinkle.
But nothing darkness covers them.
My eyes are open...but shut.
My mind imagines but doesn't.
I'm a normal person...I'm a nut.
Colorless grass grows against a colorless sky.
A muted sun shines over the shallow sea.
My heart is filled with something,
But I can't analyze it.
It has caused a great fit.

Words Unsaid

I wonder what she'll think.
I wonder what she'll say.
I wonder what will happen.
If I scream in dismay.
For my heart is about to burst.
Overflowing with words unsaid.
Like a maddened sea I will be.
The emotions in my gut rising up.
If I don't say something...
It will be like eating death cup.
My words I have spoken.
My thoughts are now said.
So now I lay here,
hoping not to be dead.

Gifts, Warnings, and Irony

The secrets of many give way to the few.
The stories of trees given crave silence anew.
And for those who don't think, get a clue!

The writing of poems given to the strong.
The people a plenty sing in joyous, lovely song.
For those who doubt, the years...long.

For those people who love life, sunny.
They will be in the land of fame and money.
I find that very funny.
For I do not enjoy fame or money.

Long Days (haiku)

As I traverse wood,

The trees speak of mystrery.
Today will be long...

Anger

This place frustrates me.
Every minute I anger a little more.
Thrashing in crimson rage.

Calm on the outside.
Furious on the inside.
Madness, a great tide.

Like a sun, it burns me.
Burning every page of memory.
A great sea of strife and gore.

My boat has sunk.
I am alone.
Anger in every bone.

Missing and Without...You

Missing you...
Without you I wouldn't have a clue what to do.

Without you I would be an apple with no core.
Without you I would live fully no more.

Without you my world would be black.
Without you,my face, my soul would smack.

You are the moon to my night.
The blessing of my fate.
I believe you are my soul mate.

Three Elements Plus a Fourth

To the whistling wind my heart calls.
My mind seeks the watery falls.
My soul aches for the earthy soil.
If I leave this world and it's toil.
These are the places my ashes will lie.

While waiting for Heaven's Gates to open, fly.
I will hear the trees' wonderful stories.
I will be with the birds and their wondrous songs.
I will be with the fish and swim in their deep places.
I will be with my friends always, helping them with their many masks of faces.

I will swim with the whales and befriend the sharks.
I will fly with the eagles and the larks.
I will learn the secrets the rocks hold.
I will be with my beloved, in heart.
I wish I could see her and her smile.
How she is on my mind for many-a-mile.

But often, Jesus I will be with.
For I love him and he loveth me.
iI wish I could see him forthwith.

The Rain

Oh how beautiful are rainy days.
The droplets fall down like leaves in May.
The clouds thunder and laugh at the world.
The water sinks into the soil, melding with the clay.
The lighting tells its story, unfurled.
Oh what a beautiful day it is.

After-rain now,
The trees, happiness they are full of.
For the wind gusts through their leaves, with one huff.
But the day will come again when the rains will plow,
having a different story to tell.

The Great Scheme: The Arise of Splendorous Light

Jesus has come with almighty might,
So comes the Arise of Splendorous Light...

He comes on the clouds
A trumpet, blasting his name aloud.
We raise our swords high, proud.

Satan, thrown to oblivion he is.
Throwing his demons in as they hiss.
These are the days of love and bliss!

Rejoice! Rejoice! for a millennium the Lamb will reign.
There is no such thing as insane, no such thing as pain!
After years, Satan will return.

The last battle...with him Satan brings his followers.
But his defense keeps getting hollower and hollower.
Finally...victory!

Satan is defeated, his followers fall into much pain and tension.
Now, we ascend to Heaven.
May God be ready...for I have many questions!
May The Great Enlightenment begin!

The Great Scheme: Arise of Satan's Demise

Well...I'm writing this poem because it just seemed like I should...enjoy!

The Arise of Satan's demise.
Oh how wonderful that day will be!
When that happens I will be free.
Free from his tyranny, free from despair.
Free from the ever changing air.
Free to roam...or free to stay home

This demise will strike fear into demons.
It will make shudder heathens.
It will make the Lord roar in triumph!

Then will come Jesus, the Lord's son.
He will shine like many-a-star.
And people will come from afar.

The Arise of Satan's Demise...
It will bring on the Arise of Splendorous Light!

The Great Scheme

I wrote this one two days ago at school. I didn't perfect it however until the next day. I was thinking about the lives we lead and how, no matter what happens, the Lord will all make it work out in the End.

The Great Scheme

It pulls down on me...
this thing that people call a wonderful life.
But right now, mine is filled with anger and strife.

Anger at Satan, for destroying my friend's life.
Strife for his demons, who keep pounding at my door.
But love for the Lord, for he has given me life!
Oh, what a chore!

But I am glad he has given me this life that I call a clock.
For at least he didn't create me as a hawk!

He gave me the gift of choice.
The gift to do what I want.
This gift he has given me...I must rejoice!

But with this gift, comes evil.
For Satan is always in pursuit.
If he defeats me...he will hoard his loot.

But never fear!
For the Lord will come,
and with him, the end of the world.....
May the war drums drum.

Sides clash in fiery ash.
Shields smash and swords flash.
The End of Days has come I fear.

But Fear will not come to you.
For the Lord is with you, through time and Eternity.

The war is over and Jesus has come.
The demons flee, witches run.
Now go and glorify the Lord...have fun!

Welcome!

I've been thinking for a while that I need somewhere on the web to put my poems...and I found it! I've been writing poems now for four years. I've lost some of my best poems in the process of Life...moving, growing, aging, experiencing. But no more! This will be my home base for my Poems...enjoy.