Expirimentalizing
With my eyes fixed on the horizon
Always dreaming and devising
Unceasingly seeking
Never compromising
For mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord
And with that glory…
The destruction of the sword
The sword hath tolled its affliction
Twice the mass of its addiction
Thrice the pain of our conviction
Four times the weight of your prediction
Devour our existence
Leave not a blithering hope
Consume our resourcefulness
Not even the wealthy can cope
So I ask…
How many?
How many can stand
In the almighty presence of the coming of the lord?
And with that…
How many can stand the affliction of the sword?
The Horizon
A bitter sweet ending to a tale from long ago
Too many have suffered from a curse we all bestow
Seems like a fairy tale
It seems so dull and contrived
And most will contravene
Until our lord hath arrived
Perseverance
In the midst of all the persecutions and afflictions we endure
Perseverance is indeed the triumph
That will bring everlasting peace to all that is pure
Touch nothing unclean
Touch nothing foreign or maligned
Touch nothing obscene
Touch nothing hydrogenated or refined
For you came from the dirt
And to the dirt you shall return
But with your regress
Your impurities forever churn
Churning and churning
Festering and obscuring
Multiplying until no man can see
Through the valley of the shadow of death
Then what is left?
The HORIZON
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