CRY FOR THE PEOPLE

Crimson glass smeared with mercury that could kill any fish,
Poison utilized as a means to gratify selfish pride.
Imitations sought after and idolized,
Presenting a false reflection of mankind.
Yet all too eagerly embraced when personal gain is seen.
Lies, a decaying masked reflection of strength,
Seeds sprouting endless, spiritual death and weakness.
Safety nets of ego and vanity enable the mind
To foolishly widen the gulf of sensible danger,
As mankind glazes all to confidently into the world's poison.
For generations they have sought to transform
Their duplicates into something tangible,
Creating mirrored images, as empty as the reflection.
Poison poured into humanity's hungry eyes as it feasts on itself.

Realities: Only if you happened to be the fish who escaped death
Through mercury poisoning because too many mirrors have been manufactured.

Mirrors have been mistaken for windows to the soul.
Portholes and gateways to superficial portraits
Of the world's visual desires.

Deceiving even the elite of outward beauty
To believe what their eyes proudly drink in.
Poison for the soul of man, food for fools.

Were mirrors magically transformed into x-ray devices
Exposing the inner realities of blood, guts, and evil emotions
Which lie buried, not so deep beneath,
Surely such a tool would be smashed in an instant.

Realities: Only for the solid hammer smashing the unbearable truth.

Reality for the thirsty Arab who drinks
From the hallucination of sundried springs,
Created thought-days of dehydration.
Mental mirages brought to life in a desperate mind,
Hauling death disguised as life.
Man choking on the reality that wasn't reality of relief,
But doom in a bowl of dust.
Fooled by overwhelming desire for a remedy from his suffering.
Taking the dry instead of the wet.
All this because he took the wrong path
At the start of the journey.

Reality: Only if your the dust of the earth,
Or the widow who mourns for her lost mate.

Babies weaned on breast milk contaminated with
The bacteria of the mother's latest conquest.
Blind attempts to provide nutriment to doomed offspring.
Children forced by birth into ignorant, subjective realities
Created by mothers who have no reality at all.
Perhaps the only tangible truth is the emotional pain inherited
From generations of deluded fools, not fools at all.
Only victims searching for hope.

Hope lost because they can't look for what isn't perceived to be missing.
Senses made too dull through years of abuse,
To fully realize God is the element the soul searches for.
Lost souls, wishing continually for the items
That crush life by their very nature.

Realities: Impossible at this stage, senses already paralyzed.
Subjected realities of habits already obtained and coveted.
Listening to, and applauding, ideas that enforce the illusion
That disloyal reality is truth.
Falsehoods, eaten by people who refuse to take their blinders off.
Nominal Christians now living contentedly in the final stages
Of an offense to God, years in its developing.
A war misunderstood in its origin and by its very nature.
What is reality if that reality will bury your soul?
Is life then reduced to only a game of chess,
The cards dealt out by a false shepherd's hand?

Realities: Yes! If you don't know why you do the things you do,
Or whom you do them for.
If saving faith is blinded by habit, or even worst,
Drowned in a sea of indifference.

Be of good courage, you who bear the light.
And know the world will despise you
And say all manner of evils against you.
The reality of God's truth is most people will not Accept the message.
The sad reality is the world is so twisted now
Genuine light has trouble getting through.

The mirrors of time, have been falsely constructed
Out of bits of glass and poison reflects
A fake image of man's worth to the world.
Aging has a slower effect when viewed
Through the tinted glass of sin.
The wrinkles of man's crimes are too easily lifted
And tucked away, into history's ancient folds.
Truth is lifted up just enough to create a face
Desirable and acceptable to mankind's secular taste.
Hidden secrets of truth not to be buried much longer,
Soon to be delivered when the hammer of reality hits time hard
And smashes it to pieces.

Realities: Only if your not watching for the return of Jesus.

Spiritual reality will surely hit home while you are busy
Conforming to the desires of a doomed world.
Only God is real--temporary life has no permanent realities.
It's only a passing wind.
The reality is we are asleep to the true condition of mankind.
Medicated to sleep, and perhaps soon, death, by personal drugs of choice.
Blinded by treasures and philosophies pleasing to an unreal, doomed humanity.

Pray for the people.
Cry for the deceitful realities blocking the only true way to God.
Fabrications of man's ideals with nothing in them.
Pray... and mourn the victims we incline to selfishly
Let die in their own misguided realities.
Pray for us who allow it to happen.


HOME
BACK TO POETRY INDEX