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.