Poetry

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These are the days when humanity has fallen, yes fallen. Wallowing in the ashes of confusion. Discerning no more their right hand from their left. Absolutes of truth banished from their reality. They reel as a drunkard to and fro upon every decision that requires an ounce of judgment. Their dark secrets brought out to open shame. Their conscience seared to an impenetrable state where all is right and nothing is wrong. Folly has become a snare unto them.

Black robes sit in high places to rule with twisted powers. They vomit forth rulings of disease and death upon a willing nation hungry for deceit. Turning and twisting the law inside out to benefit their corrupted minds. A perverse nation eats at their table with pleasure. Raising their glasses to toast the passing of truth. A handful of puppeteers pulling the strings that are guiding a nation toward destruction.

Woe to those who blindly follow as sheep to the slaughter. For a slaughter the end shall be, and then you’ll seek the truth but it will run and hide. In vain you’ll search for help that is not there. Then you’ll cry and no one will listen, you’ll beg for mercy but find it fleeting. For you have sown to the wind and now you shall reap the whirlwind. You cast your pearls before the swine and laughed as they were trod under foot. You lavishly wasted your treasure; yes the treasure of your youth. The testimony is accepted against you and now you are found in want.

Do you really want justice? Do you want to be judged by the judgment you abused? Where was your justice when you watched the hungry dieing? You aborted your youth and abandoned your old. You hoarded your treasure just to squander it on a gluttonous desire for evil. Now you must enjoy the harvest you reap from the seeds you have sown.

Congratulations! You are bringing the greatest nation on earth down without one shot. Applaud for the mighty feat you have accomplished. Pat your self on the back for the poison you spew from your lips is enjoyed by so many.

We take God from School and then ring our hands in wonder at why our children have no hope. Our ears have become too sensitive to pledge our allegiance to God. The simplest of symbols send us running to the courts knowing we can dip our fingers into their twisted truth with satisfaction. And then wallow in the hollow victory. Dance in the streets at the great win, we stopped a child from whispering God. These sour grapes taste so sweet why are we not all shouting!

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