I used to tell them I hated you.
Then you died.
Im sorry — I forgive you.
Still I haven't cried.
The words came late – but true not offcast.
Quiet - as a door closing on the past.
Just the weight finally taken from my golden crown.
And the silence where it used to live.
Written down!
The Wolf
The violence did not leave me.
Is a wolf without teeth good - or just harmless?
I've proven I can destroy - tearing down to the
ground is easy.
The question - could I stop?
I still have my blade - but now also a sheath.
And still I stand when chaos screams.
now with a discipline - forged not found.
A wolf guards the pack - it doesn't only devour
every act is a decision - every act it carries weight
A wolf still a monster - just in control of when it kills.
Easter Saturday
The eve of Lenten's weary old mile
of prayerful days and the fasting trial
A candle waits in flickering flame
In our victory we call His name.
My sons laugh - sweet eggs in sight
We break and share - just one tonight
My wife prepares - the lamb is tender
I tell the boys of deaths surrender
The table full - the eggs are laid
Grateful hearts for the love we've made
Love is gathered - our laughter blends
a feast of glory for the ends
Jesus stands - death's undone!
I smile - Easter morning in our hearts begun
Two Tier
Corruption, riots, ambulances in flames.
More terrorist plots - no media blames.
Patriots protest - far right rage.
Thuggery - before feet hit the cobbled stage.
Before a word, before a sign.
The verdict drawn the fault assigned.
Muslims with swords nothing to see
mosques filled with knifes - nobody cries.
An Englishman with banner - jailed and dies.
Two sides shout - false stories told
one painted just - one painted cold.
Bricks still fly - Left lips still lie
We cant coexist! - neath our English sky.
Two tier injustice - the coward police embrace.
In one hand a baton - to the dark there's grace.
Another sentence suspended - another fuckin sex crime
Four years in prison - for a social media line.
Still to come - more tears, more blood, and more loss.
But still we will hoist - our St George Cross!
Lord Have Mercy
I have stood in pain and called it life
As I grew - a pint in hand masked the strife
But in the quiet - now the cheers are gone
I hear the spirit - I thought I'd outrun
Not from the steel I kept close by my side
Not in the noise nor the things that I hide
But in a whisper - that drifts steady and low
I lay it all down - yet more I must know
Still the line is fine - in these days
I'm more than the man - who shouts and prays
I was held - when I became undone
Help me fight - the battles not won.
Here I stand with just a pen in my hand
No grand defence no final plans
Just love and truth and a fragile plea
Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!
The Spirit
The spirit stands strong - the candles aflame
It wakes in prayer - in heavens name.
But muscles tire - eyes fall shut
Will alone - wont stand the cut.
Between the pain and failing breath.
Would I choose faith - until death?
His grace descends when strength runs dry.
Lord, my soul it longs to try.
Prayer Rope
I sit scared with brass knuckles an knife.
Yet useless they lie - dark spirits seek life.
I rise for battle - grab my prayer rope.
I call on Christ - the source of all hope.
Through spirit and chants - have mercy on me.
Each knot a firm strike - no steel can be.
In the quiet of battle my soul stands whole.
Guarded by Angels as prayer guides my soul.
Unconscious Force
My attention adrift on narrow roads
an unseen wind decides.
In a candle flicker I hear a whisper
of an incoming tide.
Old memories I see - my hand upon
the wheel.
Incense - The Word - The Icons.
In buried echoes I start to feel
Did I choose where my eyes did rest?
The truth my mind eyes see?
Beneath the smoke and fire light
there moves a darker kind of sea.
Father speaks of sacred hearts
a guarding inward door.
A prayer on incense slowly climbs
and restless thoughts - they are no more.
Quote
When you brew on your resentment, God only knows what your letting possess you.
Dr J. B. Peterson
False Prophet
He came in a cloak of gentleness,
He shrugged to mercy while promising bless.
But underneath the sheep soft skin,
A ravenous wolf - waits within.
Cries of scorn spill from the lips,
Calls for heads - and severed finger tips.
In 'holy war' their voices rise,
Oppression burning in their eyes.
Gods true plan, or cunning lies?
A false prophet in disguise.
Test the spirit, search the heart,
Let truth and error stand apart.
For he who strays from Christs own way,
Falls to shadows that betray.
