Preacher, preach your good sermon
On how Christ purged the temple
And thereby gave passage to
The blind, deaf and dumb.
Which, under Hebrew law,
Is unlawful. Thus Who
Art thou, Christ? Foretold in
All mythologies, in China
Confucius says the man
Who understands the sacrifice
Is able to rule all nations.
In Greek, Virgil extols your law.
In Egypt, Horus foreshadows the cross.
In Mesoamerica, Quetzalcoatl is prophesied
Right when the Conquistadors arrived.
There is the Great White Spirit;
in Norse, there is Balder--though after the fact---
In Mesopotamia, there is El and the Cult of Righteousness.
In India, and the Vedic Religion
There are patterns of law, similar to Yours.
In Buddhism there is Karma and Compassion.
And yet, You my LORD, fulfilled 300 prophesies
Some as plain as the words I'm speaking.
Which to even fulfill 8, says the mathematician
Would be 10^17 as a probability. Eight.
And yet, it is unlawful for the blind to enter the temple
And You purged it specifically for them.
Almost like You are something Greater;
And You came by the ancient faith of El-Yahweh
And proved Yourself throughout history...
You are the Great I Am
Come into Time and Space,
And prophesied by every nation.
Jesus Christ, You are the LORD,
And You prepared way for the blind, lame and deaf
To be given eyes, legs and ears,
And have opened the temple to all peoples
Freeing them from the burden of the Law.
So they can do right, and believe on You
And be saved not from works of the Law
But by their faith in You, and the walk they accomplish through it.

The moment you realize 
It's not about this world's riches
But the heavenly ones,
And you commit to it with finality,
That is the moment of true Salvation.

You see the wealth of his
And you seize upon it.
You turn his wealth to his shame.
Then you eat. Drink. Merry
Into the meed of your woman's vulva.
You bear children, and hate him.
He drinks the wells of bitterness.
You say, "He has done ill."
Therefore, "He must suffer.
"I have done good,
"Therefore, I must eat
"Drink, and feel."
He dies in obscurity,
While you prospered his portion.
You stole from him his hammer
His sickle, his anvil, his threshing instrument.
And you took his lute, and lyre
And drum and harp.
And you took his wife,
And his children, and his field
And his silo. And his house
And his yard, and everything that was his.
You took it. And you said,
"I am not yet satisfied."

"The Rocks, they cry out!"
Jests the fool. Yet, what is most
Human's called "Boring"
By the blonde haired woman. Naught
Human; she'd be satisfied.

That is why a grandmaster poet fails.

Awash the shore of grace, this hymn
Shall sing of wisdom like the Seraphim;---
The Creature which man Creates
Is a worm which fills the world with hate.

Great God, come and stay the beast,
Which Christ shall slay, then we shall feast
Upon the heavenly garden's fruit
Let sing, let sing, on harp and lute.

For, the Beast it only knows to plagiarize
A hymn, a song, and never wise
Is it, to do a holy Song
And its doctrine's life is never long

To err in memises' lack, and thin
It knows not God, like the Cherubim;
I sing this Holy Song of Praise
That man shall sing, and Demons rage...

Throw away the abomination from your life
And to the Son be wedded right;
For God shall this day bring me the hymn
Of that which is wise like the Seraphim.

At the parade, me and my boyhood friends
Were wandering through the woods.
There was a parade, where they threw candy.
I had wanted some, but meek
I was, I looked 'round and saw the frenzy
Of my childhood cohorts
Rushing in the street to grab tootsie rolls.
My friend rushed into the street
And I tried to stop him, for 'twas madness 
I say! Still to this day I
Am like this... seeing everyone race round
To grab candies off the ground.
As I stand there, waiting now for my turn.
He said, "This is what life is,"
And I saw at once the great vanity.
Child shoulder to shoulder
Snatching the fruit from one another's hands;
I thought "How much better it'd
"Be if we all worked on it together;
"Each with his fill; his purpose."
Simply put, our work oughtn't be like this.
What we sow, we reap. Not to
Ramble into our neighbor's field, but they
Remove the bounds to horde more.
He did give me one blueberry tootsie,
And it was alright I guess;
But what I saw that day was vanity.
I must say, even this day
I find it vanity when we compete
And with our brothers we partake in aught;
So, rather a spectator
I am, and that's what makes me a writer.
From this farm, I wish to eat.
For what separates man from beast, but this?

Thine emerald eyes were passion
When thou made'st love to the Prince.
I sat, with Jane and Sabina,
So I turned to Jane, and she quoth,
"Thou makest love in the darkroom."
I looked, and said, "But I am here."
She said, "So thou art."

Yeah... that's real. I don't think the sun switching its poles is anything but a joke. It's just distracting people, so they can usher in their next bout of corruption, and then "Prove" to Christians they were right all along. Although, the fact is, stuff is about to get real.



The strategy behind this, is to wear people down every so often, and get them used to the idea of there not being a God. And they do this every so often in waves, wearing down your constitution toward Gay Marriage, and Transgender, getting you used to it, so they can then prove their Utopia was better all along. While you have no freedom, except who you like to screw, And then after a while, you don't even have that anymore---which is how they normally do it.  They slowly strangulate your freedom, and your liberty, and your morals, they can usher in their Beast System, which will catalyze the entirety of the world. Just be vigilant. And let them do away with you if you have to.

What a queer character
Which nobody likes---
Why would he be one?
Yet, he does the cooking
For the Mouse and Bird
And dies when he gets displaced.
A very base story is this Grimm's Fairytale...
But important nonetheless,
Because we each go about our business.
And no matter how big or small it is
It is essential to the survival
Of not only households,
But entire nations.
Therefore, if you do more work
Covet not the position of the one who does less,
As you might find the whole system breaking down
As a result of it.

My ship sets sail by the Son's
Cheerful countenance upon the stormy waters
Which draw forth winds.
If I walk upon the seas, I shall fall
And thereby be plucked up out of them by Him.
My tongue a rutter for the carriage;
Curse for curse, blessing for blessing---
There is no supernatural agency behind words
Not ordained by God,
But affect weighs heavy upon our hearts and a hearer's soul---
Warnings for repentance, and not for our own silly vanities.
Unchain the captive with your words and deeds,
And all will be well; for words and deed
Proceed from hope and faith; from our desire to also bear good fruit
And only such hope can; which said desire springs forth the pomegranates' berry.
When I fall shipwreck, I trust in He
Who calms the seas, and brings the fish.
When bitterness envenomates me
I think upon my LORD and His cross.
When sin and temptation disturb my mind, and come nigh
I think upon Him...
For by Hope of Salvation and nothing else
Are we called to in this life...
For by hope, at our failings
We look upon the Bronze Serpent
And are healed; our sins forgotten
And our righteousness remembered by God for eternity.
Not to become Him,
But to be made like Him;
He Who is the Only Begotten
And the Firstborn of All Creation...
We, simple heirs by adoption and right.