the hourglass runs low

The original version of the hourglass..in it’s free form…before the rewrite. Written in a small bedroom of a small green house many moons ago… Keep in
mind it was written by a preteen.

The night grows dark around me
The hourglass runs low
The things I see surround me
Yet I know not where to go.

I see them drawing nearer
I have nowhere else to go
My love for him grows colder
And the hourglass runs low.

My eyes have now grown clearer
And all I can see is him
He who treated me so badly
And tore my soul from limb to limb.

The hourglass is almost empty
Because I see what I’m here for
There’s blood everywhere-I killed him
Now the hourglass is no more.

tapestry

floating in the tapestry of nothing
it has touched your soul with the virus
of overwhelming darkness
i have not forgotten what it feels like
to be engulfed
in the tragic flames of hades
answer me this while you listen to the night sky
scream out it’s resistance
why can’t I
can’t i
look into my own eyes

7-11-12

Syria 3

Pray for Syria.


Syria Human Rights Investigator Manages to Enter Syria

Russia says Syria downing of Turkey jet not ‘provocation’

“What we have here is a FAILURE to COMMUNICATE” -Guns N Roses

Now I will break their yoke from your neck and tear your shackles away. Nahum 1:3

Psalm 144

Praise be to the LORD my ROCK
who trains my hands for war,
my fingers for battle.
He is my loving GOD and my
fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer,
my SHIELD, in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples under me.

O LORD, what is man that you care
for him,
the son of man that you think of him?
Man is like a breath;
his days are like a fleeting shadow.

Part your heavens, O LORD, and COME DOWN;
touch the mountains, so that they smoke.
Send forth lightning and scatter,
the enemies;
SHOOT YOUR ARROWS and rout them.
Reach down your hand from on high;
deliver me and rescue me
from the mighty waters,
from the hands of foreigners
whose mouths are full of lies;
whose right hands are deceitful.

I will sing a NEW SONG to you,
O GOD;
on the ten stringed lyre I will
make music to you,
to the ONE who gives VICTORY to
kings,
who delivers his servant David
from the deadly sword.

Deliver me and rescue me
from the hands of foreigners
whose mouths are full of lies,
whose right hands are deceitful.

Then our sons in their youth
will be like well nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
carved to adorn a palace.
Our barns will be filled
with every kind of provision.
Our sheep will increase by
thousands,
by tens of thousands in our fields;
our oxen will draw heavy loads.
There will be no breaching of walls,
no going into captivity,
no cry of distress in our streets.

Blessed are the people of whom this
is true;
blessed are the people whose GOD
is the LORD.

In Jesus’ name we pray.
AMEN.

Oh, This Darkness

blow
the bubble of truth
into the garden
of obscenities
absent though your heart
may be
I cherish the thoughts
that race
into oblivion
darkness floods the
ever present
knowledge of light
flowing steadily
this anti thesis
of eternal water
troublesome and ever present
in the mind
of the believer
this darkness
oh, this darkness
I see into your soul’s eye

Heartbreak

heart ticking loudly
maddening in its eccentricity
burning the past
with the flames
of tomorrow

the universe speaks
but who will listen
to its secrets

clock winds up for the pitch
and strikes out
the darkened prophet
as the sky
rains down anguish and
heartache
from its mind

a web of dreams
wiped from the face
of regret
and sung into the ears
of an unknown generation

hail to the wind
as it hurls the dreams
into the minds of others

heartbreak