Becoming a REAL Christian is basically like being a recovering addict.
Your addiction being all sin, and your relapses being often,
But you continue to struggle through
In part, because you know it's the right thing to do.
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My heart beats so fast it makes me dizzy
I feel my pulse in every inch of my body
Ears, toes; even my teeth pulsate
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What is a ‘good death'?
Some would say that there is no good in death,
And those would be the ones who imagine themselves immortal.
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Hello, Death
Why are you feared so?
Why is it that those who live,
Look so earnestly to avoid you.
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It must be nice, being a frog on the side of the road.
At least you are more appealing than a toad.
You sit in the grass that matches your jade scales
It seems as though flies fly to you, compelled
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Illness and despair flow over me
They feel like a molten sea.
I'll never say these words aloud,
So I am left to be engulfed in their cloud
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As the Autumnal breezes whipped our faces
The smell of cinnamon spice filled the spaces.
Leaves fell all around us
As we harvested fruits and nuts.
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Two planes crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City
A Third went to the Pentagon
Another in Pennsylvania
I was nine.
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Here I present to
everyone who perhaps
is doubtful and
denies the possibility of love.
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