I gaze across the deadened plains No sign of life, no sound of breeze Within the brook, no brook remains No birds are singing in the trees All nature awaits a soothing balm Some small relief to the parched terrain Then far off though the deadly calm I hear the sound of the coming rain
"Scratch a liberal, and you'll find a Fascist."If you disagree with the Left, you're a racist.If you disagree with him, you can't win,because he won't take the time to listen.Any time you ask him a straight question,he gives a speech, just repeats, or leaves stressin',it leaves one guessin', 'Is this the end of Justin?'I'd love
I know its hard but try to imagine growing up with homosexual attraction. Normally dudes would be looking at Jasmine but instead your drawn to Aladdin. "What's wrong with this? Why torment kids? Its their orientation! Don't give them fits." That's what the minority thinks, media and school boards on board with this. "Hide it
They foresaw its danger thus built a republic But they still took the writings on the wall for granted, Eventually “by the people, for the people” became a relic So Caesar seized the day and supreme control was granted! They will speak of a greater evil And we will call unity against a common enemy
I can't think. This world's a blur. I hate their sickness. I hate their cure. Such was I, no amateur. I still hate their pretty package of manure. Sin is dumb. The world's stupid. Get out of my face, you're worthless. But then I'm reminded that Christians are salt and light: Salt to prevent the
“And I saw a mighty angel proclaiming with a loud voice, ‘Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?’” A pagan who worships dead gods and demons The son of troy is nowhere to be seen Lust for power, led by vain philosophies and evils The son of Greece is nowhere to
Who could have ever imagined the depths He would descend? From His Father's home, Father's throne, angels' gaze, heaven's dome, down, down, to the nether regions, home of men and Legions. Humble, He, to shame the mighty; meek at heart, not sightly. Further still now descends He down, bearing cross, wearing crown. Up He gets
Pensive, regrets and longing While a Will Reagan sings on the radio Only hanging on the thread of belonging Will you regain yourself at this ratio? Time has passed since you last felt It has been ages since you last knelt You turn the corner and arrive at your destination The engine has stopped but
Like Paul of old I got life in my soul, put off the old, crucified to the world. This is definitive but there is the progressive, and with holiness I intend to be aggressive. I want to be purer than a Puritan, and dead to sin like perfect tense. My members yield as instruments, not
King Arthur The legend of a perfect monarchy More than David and his mighty men The Engine of a perfect democracy Thus, ‘Twas too good to escape the pen Charlemagne His sword forged through Frankish fire King of the Franks, King of the Lombards A crown gained through a Frankish hammer Rose through the ranks
