Flawless Betrayal

The ancient believers of the descended son,
Blaze under winter, dark, boiled by the sun,
First they were to give their souls,
To a Christ that rewarded them with a heartless toll,

Treading the desert while their first blood dried,
No moisture to spare for a last goodbye,
Their kin has been left to feed the deserts children,

Condemned by the brothers who neighbored their land,
Their backs turned onto the majestic towering symbol,
As God sat on it’s peak and watched the betrayal of his people,

Caravans of carnage, passing holy stone,
Built, grain of stone, clay of brick,
Nourished by Gods hand, sprinkled of tears,
Yet not enough for the enthrones leer,

Jugs of liquid fire, reacting with ancestor’s screams,
New born’s impaled by Judah’s son’s,
Crystal lake raised and dyed red,
While 1.5 million, lay buried under more dead.

Fuedel

My faith can be shot to hell,
It did nothing for me when I fell,
At least now I blend right in,
With these demons of endless sin,
Blind these people with your lies,
Don’t close your ears, hear their cries!
You gave them life and send them here,
Where life goes on in an endless year,
You died for nothing,
Just for some cause,
To forgive them for their sins long lost,
Forgive ME friend, for you know not what you do,
You killed yourself, and now us too.

Being Happy

Is it real or is it just suppositious thoughts playing puppet master with your feelings. Ya we met the girl that we want to be with, but what makes us know that she is the right one? Ya I like her, but does she like me back? She is beautiful, but does she think me handsome? Thoughts such as these invade our mind like Mongols to China, they just won’t stop coming. But why do we feel miserable when the right thing is said and we have done everything we can, that we think has made her happy and still we feel like shit? It’s not possible for us to try our hardest, for there is no such thing. Yet we do try, we try and succeed and yet they seem like they have not noticed our efforts. Maybe they have. Is that to mean that we should try harder? Or will they notice a decline in our routine. It’s like this my fellow humans. If you feel something between you two, just be affectionate, don’t hold back. Why? Why should my thoughts overpower those of my feelings when it is my feelings that will in the end put that smile on my face. We have the time, we have the right moments, and why shouldn’t we indulge ourselves. If it makes you happy and puts a smile on her face, be together, go against the rivers current. Remember, one day we die, let not this line be cliché but learn from it, “Don’t worry yourself too much about tomorrow, after all today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday”

Stir the river

When my brothers and I talk about something controversial, I side with what I believe is true, just like anyone would do. I don’t base my decision up to the backdrop of human justice, or morality, because humanity is false. Humanity cannot be summed up by the words of rotting old men whose theories have been discovered and are so extreme; they have been adopted by our own generation for it’s new views. But when I argue, I do argue for the sake of arguing because what I believe should create a stir. If the river of life stayed the same we would cease being a river and turn into a lake. But it is the fact that we question and think that makes life the scenic river that we love to watch. Arguments are neither false nor right, for it is still an argument. Fact, fiction, one in the same. Your fact could be another mans fiction. Your God could be his source of fanciful laughter. If we were rocks, and life the river, would it not be right to go against the current to affect the rivers surface? Do you enjoy watching a stale lake where bloodsuckers bathe and spawn, opposed to the mossy rocks, and ruptured flow of a river, in which each current is different each time you stare at it? Life cannot be still, as a lake, for nothing changes in a lake. Each current in a river brings forth a new wave of water, a new piece of wood that will change the river’s surface. We must strive to be the stirrers of the rivers, or our ends will end up in the stale lake, which nothing moves, nothing changes and life is forever still.

Filling the Slot

Could life be all that we see?

Or do we as creators have a key?

To a door which holds no end,

But to one where our souls are sent,

Can we pray to what we think?

Or is knowledge destruction’s link,

Time is of no essence when time is lost,

But what price to pay, what the cost?

Could this poem just be here to waste time?

Or is that for us to do, sit and make rhymes,

I like to write, you like to read,

Yet our lives seem pointless,

In this sea of breeds,

You could be black, hell, I could be blue,

Yet nothing is substantial,

Especially for you,

Laws are written, by the left hand of god,

Yet always they break from man’s façade,

Rules are written for the enjoyment of power,

When we question who controls it, we flinch and cower,

Words are built from space and dust,

Blow once with hot air, and make it combust,

Do what you feel, that’s why we’re here,

No reason to fret, worry or tear,

This may have extended more than we thought,

Yet what better things to do,

Then fill this time slot.