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Repentance Unknown

Updated on October 9, 2014

Four Days Late and Still on Time

What the Devil?

You say: no way!

There is not such a thing

Fantasies, Fairy Tales, or maybe Myths


Like that Hobbit

And his golden ring

Invisible in truth's safety

Yet still he fears slightly


Yet we too fear for our needs

Because of demons and their seeds

Watchers waiting for to

Whisper their misfortunes instead


Into our flesh covered boney heads

Clogged with their stories of the vines

Of Lucifer his glory and his wine

His lies they must tell or Its Hell


These little Children their Father

He ain't; no Saints pretenders all

The Real One is; four days late

And still He is on Time say we all


The truth to the matter we just don't know

Our World troubled with pain but

The Comforter cares and is aware

As a Gardener tending His flock

GOD IS Always On Time

No One to Till the Land Indeed

As the Shepherd tends His rows

Sons and daughters grow

Kings and Queens we could have been

Instead we fell behind and along


Like baby goats roped and tied, all aligned

With mystifying stories fed to us

Filled high with subtle lies

Snake Eyes tossed we lost


Shall we roll the Dies again?

Mud covered dusty souls no longer aglow

We fell from the Days of Old our Heaven

Two witnesses created for us One soul


A Father, a Mother for us all

Sons and daughters as we choose

A god so little and fierce

Their Son he must pierce; His side


With a spear of destiny

With a crown of thrones

he crowns Him King

Allows His Robe to be stolen


he displayed thieves at His sides

One haughty the other naughty

One boasted, one bent

For their pride both deserved to die


One shall see Heaven the other a darkness unknown

Because of a Repentance that was not gleamed

He left his first estate

Forgotten Our Father we all did


Fell like stones; left our home and Father's throne

"The Mercy Seat" Satan mothballed

he hid It away until this day

There was a man created Once


Meant to till the remaining dust

Not a Farmer my friends

But a teacher and preacher to replace

A thief accusing the innocents that was


A Sinner who would not repent

A Child who wont save face

So far gone but

Once his musical pipes sung


Now flung he all his gifts away; all but one

As he waggles his forked tongue

At the ONE

A Murder murdering everyday; yes


Virginia there is a Devil

He lives; let no one tell different

Just so you know that

The Truth HE is on His way


Coming Home

To Us all here

On planet Earth

Forever to Stay

Golgotha (circle of Bartholomaus Bruyn d. A.)Public Domain circle of Bartholomäus Bruyn d. Ä. - own photo
Golgotha (circle of Bartholomaus Bruyn d. A.)Public Domain circle of Bartholomäus Bruyn d. Ä. - own photo | Source

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    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 3 years ago from Queensland Australia

      Wonderful poem. Voted up.

    • Sinbadsailorman profile image
      Author

      Donald Beres Jr 3 years ago from Valparaiso, Indiana

      Thanks for one Up and the nice comment Jodah. Sometimes these writes they sneak up on me and demand to be written so I do as they request. (The voices in my head) Maybe I should stop eating ice-cream before bed. Nah! They don't ask for much, so until they do I'll keep eating Ice-cream. Especially since the air-conditioner is out again.

    • profile image

      Alla 2 years ago

      Articles like this really grease the shafts of knedoewgl.

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