The first deceivers were weavers
mechanically believed,
maniacally manufactured
trying me to finally find the answer
as to why we hurt.

Let's see who stands my test of time,
threads spin, intertwined
as styles synthesize
minds ripe for picking,
shrines leap off limbs lending
me a branch to climb up and end it,
a cloud to puff a cig with,
a chance to shine
just like the sun
cant tell a canyon
from a figment of one
mind the bend of the cliffs edge
sailing through time
at last, alas my ship's wrecked.

A damaged language
Words shared between the hurt ones
Scissors in my outstretched hand
Sprinting

I'm not sure whose blood this is
Something is missing
Leaflets maybe letters
It hurts

Pain on Parade
Christ-like though I have sinned
Deserving every barb
Lost

The cup is full
Too heavy to lift
I only wanted a taste
No

Screeching reprisal
You will never know
I had always hoped
Wake up

Its too bright

cankerous open mouths.
dead breath like exhaust.
this is your world,
you who would not have it.
pockmarked by age
and pockmarked by plague
and a palpitating heart.
repeating pleasure as if it were a litany.
a cowl to wrap yourself in
and create a new identity.
and it's the weight of your heart
that matters
no matter how small.
and with pooling abscesses
and with enough drained blood
you could fill a new world.

Lord, I struggle each day
To live a perfect way
I just want to be
All You want me to be

But why,
Why do I keep on sinning everyday?
No matter how hard I try
It just won't work my way

I want to be free
From all the darkness inside of me

With all my might
I can't do it
With all my strength
I can't still do it
But with Your grace
I will make it
Oh God, Oh God
You are all I need

For by grace I am saved
Through faith in Christ Jesus.

I don't think I have quite matured to my fullest,
but I am most definitely matured above cruelty.

You may not mistreat me, lie, cheat, or steal.
You may not crumble my walls that I must rebuild.
Most importantly, you must beware of me.

Beware of my tongue, for now it is sharp.
For now I am bitter, rather than enraged.
I have buried my faith so deep into you,
With nothing left to show for it.

Nothing but the scars on my psyche.
The scars that will blossom into buds,
Beautiful yellow buds that bloom in time.

In time for me to learn my worth, and value.
In order for me to regain the strength I once carried.
It is within, it has not escaped.

It will be freed in time.

Unexpected trials experienced in Life,
reveal the paths of Faith in each day;
purification of your soul by holy fire
insures useless stubble is burned away.

When giving yourself completely to Him,
the unholiness of the World can be shed;
consume God’s Word vigorously and often,
so that Biblical ideals fill your head.

Without His Godly wisdom and knowledge,
spiritual battles are normally difficult;
learn from the former lessons of others
to reduce the trauma of personal tumult.

From being able to walk through the fire,
your faith can exponentially soar higher.
.
.
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Author Notes

Inspired by:
1 Pet 4:12-13; Prov 4:6-7

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

This is what it means to be
A product of inhuman ingenuity
I'm not creative because I let my brain spill from the palm
Leaving a note in screaming whispers
Just to disturb the calm
We all hide under the monsters that live in our bed
You try to talk through to them
But no response is a silent gun aimed towards the head

The world just keeps on dancing when I silence my own song
A spoon full of my own personal sugar makes it seem better
But on the inside it's a new shade of wrong
Staying numb somewhere down the line of feeling
Kneeling to the window of opportunity blocked by another buildings ceiling

It's time to walk through these walls.