The Lions and the Lambs (Journal Entry)

There’s a knot in my gut the size of my fist. I try to ignore it but it cries out like a mother bird in distress. Much like the premonitions that warned me against the crooked path I doomed myself to take. Seems the hell I’ve known is mercy compared to the hell that is to come.

The whole world is a human centipede. Battered sheep yearning for deliverance from their cold-hearted shepherd. I often wonder what mindblowing epiphany will compel the sheep to shed their wool and become lions treading through the fields of rebellion. It’s not enough for the sheep to know their shepherd is up to no good. They need to want to flee from his care. Herein lie the wall that won’t crack…

The Seed Sower Knows (Poem)

Only The Seed Sower knows
Which root the seed grows
All ails the seed shows
Which brood the seed tolls

The Tiller of the fields
Breaks sweat with no skills
Makes bets with no yields
Banks debt with wrong deals

A Bird in Your Hand (Poem)

A bird in your hand is worth three in a tree
The burden of man is an imperial decree

Cast down upon the lowly
The tree withers with blight

The lowly see the tree as hope
But the avid see all as trite

One form of trite gives way to another
But the new form of trite leads all forms to blunder

Blunder across the land leaves no room trees
And a treeless isolation breeds new formed disease

Disease of the mind
Disease of the heart

Disease that will multiply
Til death do us part

The only real cure for this plague is the bird
The absence of trees means that life has deterred