Elusive fulfillment, promising much,
Master of anticipation and lust,
Warping a want till it feels like a must,
How many more must be crushed in your clutch?
Questioning you grows progressively more
Treacherous, for you twist my desiring
From pure motives in holy retiring
To meaner modes. I cease to see the war.
Awaken me, O Spirit. Help me hear
The still, small voice reminding me the way
To fullness is to seek a higher end.
My God, you reign. Teach me to love and fear,
To trust in your provision for this day,
And to abide in thee, most faithful friend.
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
Layers upon layers of
Links to pages where eyes shouldn’t look,
Every one doubling as
Pieces of a chain with an eternal hook.
Line after line of text,
Every word weighted with wrath
Floating like feathers,
Fixing themselves in the mind like
Phantoms: Thoughts that haunt
And never seem to die.
Unwanted glimpses of
Skin not yours to touch,
Lips not yours to taste,
Rights not yours to take.
Unwelcome houseguest, unsought snake,
Sneaking around so silently
At times you
Might believe yourself to be free,
Might forget the enemy,
Right in the wrong place,
Left unguarded against the trap.
Temptation’s plague upon the mind,
Meant to mar souls, to murder men and women.
Masked and manic.
How many more must you take?
“Pokemon Go” came out this past week in app stores, and, consequently, twenty-somethings all over are reliving their childhood calling to “catch ‘em all!” By using smartphones, we can now see the teeming masses of Pidgeys and Rattatas that pepper the landscape as we hunt the elusive Scyther on campus (no exaggeration; NOBTS is covered with Pidgeys and Rattatas). I have to admit that I’m sucked into the craze. For a simple enough game, “Pokemon Go” delivers hours of fun.
Bask in your infatuation
Nevermind your mutilation
Spit on Christ’s propitiation
Carry on with sin
Take the saving cord; unwind it
Other souls will surely find it
Jesus surely wouldn’t mind it
Let the devil win
Seek ye first your own desiring
Think not of the Lord’s perspiring
Nor of hell’s eternal firing
Run away again
Surely God was only joking
Gorge without a fear of choking
At the beast we go a poking
Let the games begin