Faith Race in the Space Between Farce & Grace

Faith Race in the Space Between Farce & Grace

Look, it’s difficult for me to post this poem and entry into my own blog/website; in fact, I’ve never been more apprehensive about sharing a particular creative work. I wish to be judged by my actions, and how I treat others, not by the stigma attached to typical Christian beliefs…but I’d be lying if I said I don’t consider myself a biblical minded Protestant behind the guise of one afflicted with at notable measures of social anxiety and at times…paranoia.

In this day and age, I’d rather not talk about religion, spiritualism, what-have-you, but I imagine there will be someone seeing this post, or listening to the audio version that will be offended on some level, that is not why this exists. Simply put, this site is for all the weird shite that flows out of my brain, and with that said, I make no further apologies for the below.

They’re spitting the flame,
controlling the game,
making you feel shame,
as they sway the blame.
They’re illuminated,
making the people feel sated.

Marching forces into your mind,
biding their time,
always maneuvering around the line.
The line He laid down,
don’t frown,
we’ve got this,
you can’t bow to the serpent while his tongues’ hiss.

Feel the pain,
acknowledge the rain.
With His protection,
we will rise from the dirt and it won’t hurt–

This life is a lesson.
Does that alarm you?
It shouldn’t, He made a promise,
that you would sit by Him,
and that’s honest.

You’re seeing only what the enemy would have you see.
Hanging with this devil in his apple tree.
Stop making the deal,
cause with his demon seal,
your suffering will never heal.

You know this,
but you’re hated.
So don’t go around baiting,
like your eyes are special.
Like only you can see something,
where the heart just begs to flee;
–it’s a lucifarian embrace.
Remember that he doesn’t own this place!

There is a place in your mind,
between your eyes,
you think you’re never going to die.
But who are you kidding?
Dying is the name of the game,
only false prophets gain fame,
and they’re expecting you to do the same.

They want you to share the lies,
cover the times,
while being happy with your binds.
You know,
the shackles,
the ones that have been cast on you because you cackled.

You laughed and only told Him to move over,
while you played dumb,
drinking up the evil rum,
forgetting the sum– of your existence.

You missed it,
the Light at the end of the tunnel,
but this isn’t a slippery funnel.
Get out of this jungle.

Turn around,
step back on the path,
run from the woods,
learn from the math–
without falling to their craze.

You’ve gotta know how to see it coming.
You’ve got to make a stand,
it’s all or it’s nothing.

You can’t have it all,
not even a fraction.
Prepare for the suffering,
choose wisely your faction.

Get a reaction from the misery cults,
fight for results.
Yes, there are angels,
but beware their message,
only your guardian will tell you;

“See the evil that is.” 

Bow not before him,
“I’m just here to guide you,
–that you might know..
when you’re being lied to.”


And let it be known,
let it be shown,
–that there are talons sinking into your skin.
Perverting your thoughts,
swaying your mind,
so that you don’t want you to shine.

Say a prayer for your angel,
that he will wrangle and tangle.
Tangle up the dark lord and his minions’ horns,
sending them back to where they became the sworn–
–sworn enemies of His sheep.
For I know the road is getting so steep.

But you can’t back down,
let them turn you around,
facing the ground,
while you’re hearing the pounding sound–

I make no puns when I talk about faith,
without it they just hang over you,
wanting you to fall for their witchcraft and science,
all they seek is finance–
–for their world domination,
it’s an absolute abomination.

Get your head out of this space station–
we call “media”.
They’ve planted a seed,
creating a madia;
the flower that closes in the face of light–
–and uses its third eye for sight beyond sight.

Rebuke it,
see with your soul,
don’t continue to live on Baphomet’s grassy knoll.
For Beelzebub’s beauty is only skin deep,
he wants you to go to sleep,
so he can feed while others weep,
but you are not his to keep.
You have to make the leap–
out of his hands,
because your Creator has plans.
That’s why He raised you from the sands,

Are you beginning to understand?

It’s not absurd,
He is going to be heard,
so don’t be ashamed of the Lord God Almighty’s word!

Gabriel is going to play his trumpet,
so we all know He is triumphant.
We’re on the summit.

We will not fall victim to Illuminati woes,
so keep your Freemason nose out of our rose.
Or you will be forced,
to be divorced,
from He who arose.
Why do you suppose–
they have no place in His book?
Because they mistook,
Mephistopheles for a rook,
and not a crook.

This Diablo moves his pieces,
cheating,
lines bending,
his power increasing–
–in your life.
This is artificial strife,
but it still punctures like a knife.
You are not the Archfiend’s wife!

So accept your blessings and thank Him;
He who would have you wash the feet of your neighbor,
who suffered the greatest loss so you would not have to labor–
–for your eternity.
For nothing really matters outside of He;
who is inside of me.
You’ve got to get in the right hand,
and learn about The I AM!

Stop bowing to pyramids,
you can’t observe it in their irises.
For there is one place the all seeing eye cannot be,
and that’s in His sight.
It’s not even worth the fight.
My Father turns His back on the night.

The Rockefellers and Rothschilds,
they are not illuminated,
they have accumulated.
They are contaminated,
mutilated,
intoxicated.
It’s not complicated,
you have no excuse to not be educated.
I’m not opinionated,
I am rejuvenated.

Saved by the Lamb of God;
He who holds the rod,
He who punishes the fraud.

The Shepherd of Men,
The Destroyer of Sin.
For He is the beginning,
the now,
and the END!

Praise The King of Kings,
know The Lord of Lords,
this is my prayer,
to NEVER be–
–Lucifer’s whore.

Prince of Peace,
Son of Man,
my Messiah knows exactly where my heart stands..
..with The Redeemer.
For I am not a dreamer,
and this is my demeanor,
that of an absolute…believer…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share Tweet Share Share