Saturday, 17 December 2011

The End

THE END
His legs throbbed as he lay on the hard ground.  His vision blurred and the only sounds he could hear were the distant sirens and the beating of his own heart.  People surrounded him with interest and deep concern.  He felt as if this were the end.
            It’s funny how we try so hard, we push ourselves to the very maximum to create hope in the world but with this pushing, we end up bringing self-destruction.  As this noble marathoner lay on the hot pavement, he couldn’t help but feel as a failure.  Everything he’d hoped and dreamed for, all his ambitions had been lost in this one fund-raising marathon.
            He could still feel the sun beating down on him, welcoming him to his presence.  Sweat of pain and endurance trickled across his forehead and dampened his hair.  Nothing seemed real.  The world moved around him but he was trapped in that feeling of failure.
            As the medics lifted him onto the gurney, he could feel his thrown-down body throb.  The only vivid thing in his mind right then was the picture of his son, his son’s face.  He now felt as if he were floating while the ambulance sped along to bring him to the care he needed at the hospital.
            The sirens were just above the man’s head, yet they still seemed so distant.  The emergency workers in the ambulance applied an oxygen mask to keep him breathing and brought him water for hydration.  In his head he knew that he would be okay, more or less.  Yet somewhere in the dark depths of his soul, he felt that this was the end, he had failed.
            Slowly his son’s picture in his mind faded away.  His head throbbed with the thoughts that troubled him.  His regrets, his mistakes, his terrible sins.  He closed his swelling eyes and prayed a prayer for forgiveness, humbling himself to the God he never really got to know.  He prayed that in his last moment he could be cleansed from his sins.
            The troubled man felt something come over him, something that urged him to keep trying, to keep pushing.  That same feeling that got him to run the many marathons in the first place.  In his heart he knew that his job was not yet done.  He had so much further to go, so many more things to achieve.  Whether he was to continue running to raise money for cancer research, for those like his son, or if he was to continue learning about the God that pushed him forward from this dark moment in his life.
            No matter where he would go from here, this would not be the end

Sunday, 20 November 2011

Home

I can touch the walls of this sturdy house,
I can feel the sheets on my bed.
But I know, as well as anyone else,
my real home, I've yet to tread.

I  can see with my eyes the paint on the wall,
I can breath the morning air.
But this is not my home, at all,
my home is way up there.

I have been born into this world of sin,
right now I can see nothing more. 
This glory, I will have to win,
to live better than before.

Only in a dream is a home like this,
where streets are solid gold.
The Kingdom of God is filled with Bliss,
a whole family there, I'm told.

Monday, 24 October 2011

God touches every baby born,
opens every eye.
Helps them wake every morn, 
and helps the day go by. 
When you loose the touch of God,
you loose reality. 
So hold on tight and hold on strong, 
and glory you will see.

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Deceit

Why does she believe in such mystical things?
Why does she trust in your lies?
Why do you make her be so sad?
Why do you laugh when she cries?

I know you want power, power over men
I know you want to see us suffer.
Why, when you know how it will end,
do you continually get rougher?

I guess it’s too late for you to turn back,
You’ve gone to far in your hatred.
But every time our souls you attack,
He will know what you did.

Stop the lies! Stop the misery!
She has cried more than anyone should!
You’ve ruined the future with the History
But he has redeemed us with his blood.

Insanity and Society

I'm trapped in a time
where everything runs
with no reason or rhyme
where everything good
feels like a crime

I am trapped in this space
with no one who will
look me in the face
where everyone seems
so out of place

I am stuck to the floor
I am passed
but easily ignored
as if they've seen
something like this before

And why do we stay
why don't we try
and thrive to change
why? because it is not
man's way.