Better Luck Next Time

And ugly,
Was all that waited at the door,
Ugly,
Too terrible to mention,
And it could be likened,
To nothing preceding it before.

It started at this door,
Just here to the right,
Slyly it got pushed open,
Curiosity was awoken,
And expectancy was high,
But it revealed only a rake,
With rotten tines that poked and prodded,
Yes that door was a mistake.

Parallel to this door,
Was another door,
Hurriedly it was yanked open,
Desperation for a solution,
From the last spoiled door,
Was the only why for,
But all it brought was disappointment,
And need for one more chance,
To vent and repent.

Farther on down the hall,
We have yet another door,
Cautiously it was eased open,
Sadness was secretly the driving factor,
But time had made for quite the actor,
And all surprise was hidden,
Nope there was no cryin’,
When the lamb behind,
Ran off changed – a lion.

Now the next door,
Way over in another wing,
After awhile it was kicked open,
By a dare made when just jokin’,
Although only nonchalance was shown,
There was a hope deep down,
But all it did was drown,
Because behind that door,
Lay a coiled snake,
Who stole all remaining confidence,
When it angrily,
Slithered away.

One day a secret door,
Was seen up in the attic,
When found,
The feeling to ignore was emphatic,
But the ‘what if’ in the mind won out,
And it was shoved open with a silent shout,
A dog was disclosed,
One who loved to play games,
But who could not be tamed,
Before long it was obvious,
This dog was all wrong.

The door after that,
Is hoped to be the final door,
But where is the location,
And are there guts,
To even open it,
Are questions,
For which no one’s got an answer,
Take heed!
Will behind it be,
A snow-white steed?
Or will more ugly supercede?

Help Them Holy Ghost / It Is Written

Looking around,
Is a scary sight,
For the majority,
Haven’t even heard,
There’s a fight.

Head in the clouds,
Not even hearing them,
I know they’re loud,
But I’m thinking about the many,
Whose souls will never soar,
Above the clouds.

Isn’t it terrible?
You’d think they’d care,
But they haven’t any idea,
That they gotta go SOMEWHERE……….

They’re like, oblivious,
That they’re Satan’s servants,
And it’s aggravating,
That telling them,
Makes for lots of hating.

They think life’s all about,
The here and now,
Not seeing much beyond,
Today and tomorrow,
Not knowing how this,
Will soon bring eternal sorrow.

They speak,
I cannot stand it,
Each little comment,
Tells me secrets,
Little tell-alls,
Understood by only a few,
Who walk in the supernatural.

Plaguing demons,
Apparent in everything,
They do and say,
Still they ignore the truth,
To find their own way,
As my spirit’s discerning,
I picture them burning.

It pierces like an arrow,
The realization,
That the way truly is narrow,
And it’s dreadful,
But most won’t ever find it.

Freed From False Friends

Wow, has it been that long?
Wow, how time does fly,
Would I go back if I could?
Nope, I wouldn’t……….
Not me, not I.

Happiness it was not,
Just a false front,
A sham,
One that ought be broken down,
By a battering ram.

Thinking they are,
High and mighty,
They fly flags of disgrace,
It is a most,
Ungodly place.

Full of fools,
And laden with liars,
Tongues continuously wag,
Making it blaze,
With figurative fires.

Oh, the many memories!
But I guess the new fruits here,
Are ripening fast,
Because what was once matchless,
Now has me aghast.

Ran by agents,
Sent from Satan,
It’s by no means a place,
For a Child Of The King,
To show their face.

A sickening sight,
It was to see,
And I’m glad the place,
Is no longer,
Graced by me.

Just Around The Bend

Beware the black soul,
That will unquestionably become foe,
Beware ‘cuz his face,
Hides his real role.

It is not fair,
Ruined,
Made to care,
Then cast aside,
Due to his pride.

But one’s trash,
Is always another’s treasure,
And one’s misery,
Another’s pleasure.

A betrayal,
By a seeming angel,
But someone else is hiding,
Hoping,
It’s you he’ll be finding.

Crying will do no good,
I know – if only it could!
But, one day!……….
Agony will be at bay!

Time ticks by,
A day,
A week,
A month,
A year,
Though your sadness is sincere,
You’ve got back humor and cheek,
And soon,
It will come to pass……….,
Your own treasure,
Will be here at last.

Narrow Is The Way

You’re on the narrow path,
Be proud of it,
It’s the hardest way,
And few there be that find it.

It’s a rough street to travel,
And you mustn’t deviate,
Or your life will end,
At the entrance to,
The wrong gate.

Pearls and gold,
Beat out torture and fire,
So I wouldn’t purposely provoke,
The Lord’s ire.

You’ll be the outcast,
Be expecting that,
But no worries,
Though they can’t see it,
You already have them outclassed.

You’ll lose the ones,
On which you thought you could depend,
Be expecting that,
But don’t pretend,
Just to have them call you friend,
Keep in mind,
That what you stand for,
Will be worth it in the end.

You’ll be called boring,
Though your days,
Are full to overflowing,
Be expecting that,
And be glad your brain,
Isn’t like theirs….. slow-going.

Everything Has An Expiration

Aren’t you glad you didn’t know,
It would be the last time,
Wouldn’t you agree,
It would have taken away from the shine?

It’s terribly terrible,
And horrifically horrible,
Now that it’s gone,
But knowing when it would go,
Would have even,
Intensified the blow.

For it would have prevented,
That last lovely memory,
Which is now worth more,
Than any money.

It’s a sad, sad world,
Where nothing lasts,
And no one knows when what’s now,
Will become a thing of the past.

Things,
Unfortunately,
Seem meant to die,
But why?

Maybe it’s because,
It wasn’t meant to happen,
It had broken invisible laws,
And brought about out-of-sight applause.

Or maybe it’s because,
Of unseen meddling,
It was truly God’s plan,
But ruined as consequence,
Of unholy Man.

Or possibly because,
It had served its purpose,
And had to move on,
To another circus.

**********
But you ought to believe,
It was the end of an era,
And around the next bend,
Lies a much better end.
**********

Diabolical Agenda

A pretty face,
How does she act,
In such disgrace?

So very sweet,
But hated,
For those moments she acts,
With complete deceit.

Nothing can hold a candle,
To when she flies off the handle,
So glad she’s not the norm,
For she is a God-awful,
Wicked form of storm.

Fake as fuck,
And slimy like,
The fingers of,
A little tyke,
She needs to take a hike.

Pretending to be,
Such a honey,
But she’s got something hidden,
On her back,
That makes her mean,
As lucifer’s queen.

So sneaky,
Don’t ever get too close,
That pleasantry is false,
Just waltz right by,
For she’s looking for information,
To use against you,
On the sly.

To sum it up,
She’s a waste of space,
Who needs to learn her place.

The Invisible Ones

The misfits mesh with me,
I like that fire,
Strong as a sting,
From a honey bee.

It doesn’t get quenched,
It can quiet,
But hidden embers,
Are always there,
Waiting to stir the air.

The misfits mesh with me,
The freaks and the geeks,
So much more desirable,
Than the cool ones,
Whose lips leak cheek.

Their hair has flair,
They mean what they say,
Their speak isn’t weak,
No matter what,
Day of the week,
Or what mood,
Churns in their gut.

The misfits mesh with me,
I see their personality,
Making others hide and flee,
But it makes me laugh with glee.

It’s so delightful,
And I don’t care,
Who toward them is spiteful,
That sarcasm,
With me won’t cause a chasm.

The misfits mesh with me,
And for this I am not sorry,
Rather than full of things angry,
Their eyes hold pain,
And are starry.

The difference between,
Them and the popular,
Is really nothing,
Except which demons and such,
Bother them much.

Brand New Year

By this time next year,
May it all have came to pass,
By this time next year,
May tears have turned to laughs.

The doors that need to open,
And the doors that need to shut,
May they swing in the right direction,
To spring you out of your rut,
And knock bad on its ass.

The ones that need to come,
And the ones that need to go,
May they make their presence known,
In with the chums,
And out with the scum.

The demons plaguing you,
And the angels protecting you,
May they align with God’s plan,
For you to seek deliverance from devils,
And become a willing vessel.

The bad cravings,
And the good inclinations,
May they take their proper place,
The good becoming concrete,
And the bad sprouting feet.

The things you love,
And the things you hate,
May they not affect you unfavorably,
Your loves being beneficial,
And your hates not interfering with fate.

Wanted

It would be so splendid,
If Hell would freeze over,
So all the things that it’s said,
Won’t ever happen,
‘Til Hell freezes over,
Could come to fruition.

Like a world not predestined for failure,
One where there are more,
Saints than sinners,
And more to adore,
Than to abhor.

A way to make a living,
That doesn’t require,
Kissing someone’s ass,
And handing them half your life,
On a silver platter.

Where people don’t settle,
For whatever happens along first,
But wait for that which without,
They would die of thirst.

Oh for a world,
Where there are no regrets,
For people said what they felt,
Without stupidly waiting,
As biding your time,
Awaiting a perfect moment,
Ends with disappointment,
That realigns fates.

If only free,
Was really without cost,
But there’s always a price,
And if left unpaid,
That free thing is lost.

A place where time could stand still,
At the snap of a finger,
Or the stomp of a foot,
And then linger,
So we could just chill,
And enjoy the thrills.

If only instead of,
Employing unrelenting backstabbing and gossip,
A person looked at another,
As a soul not a foe,
And realized that’s the only way,
To make Heaven their home.