A boy who died when I was just a boy
Has haunted me up to this very day.
His ghost I fear I never will destroy;
His face I fear will never fade away.
With breathless voice, he whispers in my ear.
With sightless eyes, he stares into my soul.
With ev’ry step I take, I see him sneer
With devilish desire to take control.
But victory for him would mean my doom,
For he would see me suffering in hell.
Though safe am I by truth of empty tomb,
The specter whispers still, “All is not well.”
I am until my final breath a host
Ever departing from him, my own ghost.
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.
Oh let me never set my foot
Into this hellish place again,
This cesspool of the vilest strain,
This fountain of the blackest soot,
For I would sooner face my death
Than dare depart into the deep
Where devils in the darkness sleep
In wait for any sound of breath.
Alas, this place is never far,
For scorching fire doth walk with me,
Subverting any good I see,
Revealing this, my hidden scar,
The fatal wound within my heart
That came when I chose to rebel
And, left unhealed, will lead to hell
This soul who seeks to just depart
To freedom from the curse of sin.
O Jesus, can you save this wretch?
Can you before damnation catch
My soul and make my life begin?
Forgive me for my wicked ways
And rescue from temptation’s snares;
Keep me from loving what impairs
And make me yours for all my days.
I feel temptation’s throes around me now.
My heart is being beaten by the brute.
This flesh would see me finished with my vow.
Cry vengeance, God, and cut it at the root.
Too long have I now struggled just to breathe.
Too long have I imagined life is jest.
The holy Sword of God I must unsheathe,
And drive the blade into my very chest.
Cut out the heart of stone, O Lord of hosts,
And bring the dead to life by sacrifice,
For Christ has come to walk among the ghosts.
He paid with his own blood the ransom price.
O resurrected Warrior of light,
Raise me now up to worship and to fight.
And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment.”
“Little children, keep yourselves from idols.”
1 John 5:21
Question: Do I love the Lord my God with all my heart and with all my soul and with all my mind?
Answer: No. I do not. Continue reading
As the fellowship makes its way across the pass of Caradhras, their course set for Mordor to destroy the ring of power, Frodo, the ring bearer, loses his footing and rolls backward down the mountain before being caught by another in the party. In the fall, the ring slips out onto the snow where it is picked up by Boromir. As Boromir holds the ring up before his eyes, he wonders, almost to himself, that a tiny ring is the cause of such turmoil among the free peoples of Middle Earth. Boromir, who desires to defend his people against evil, wonders why the ring cannot be used for good, why it must be destroyed if it possesses such power. Continue reading
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