He Who Suffers

Gone are the days of constant struggle.
Gone are the days of deadly trouble.
Gone are the days I look over my shoulder.
Gone are the days I lift their heavy boulders
Gone are the days stood under skies no longer blue.
Gone are the days where dreams just don't come true.
Gone are the days I'm molested with wasteful plot.
Gone are the days that will eventually be forgot.

Now are the days of my true salvation.
Now are the days of awesome foundation.
Now are the days I face forward.
Now are the days of eternal reward.
Now are the days the sun shines over green valley.
Now are the days the dreams are my modus operandi.
Now are the days I am no longer he who suffers.
Now are the days that her and I are lovers.

Shotguns For Lunch

Answers are inches from my face.
Irony all over the world set in place.
So the rich man broke his back setting new plans.
Going off like fucking time bombs set in foreign lands.

Promote anger to all those in check.
While soldiers avoid fire, "hit the deck!"
Wandering scavengers will loot the area wrought with fire.
Like the parasites called humans when severed from the wire.

We pretend God'll punish them all.
But it didn't exactly happen last Fall.
We hiss and boo when our soldiers piss on the hands of prisoners of war.
Yet we don't give a rat's ass when we witness terrorist blood and gore!

Ready or not, it's happening for some.
Apocalypse here we fucking come!
Reality is the bane of all those people too poor to overcome its deadly crunch.
While rich tyrants are fat and happy, warriors only have shotguns for lunch.

The man upstairs ignores the call for peace.
While the Church is SO busy ordaining the priest.
I can't imagine how many times a soul proclaimed 'Not like this' in dying breath.
Not when Earth's reality is much worse than divorce's kiss of bittersweet death.

Paradoxial Rhyme

Last night we made a given choice
Cry forever or momentary rejoice?
In the morning we put these on.
In the evening we take these off.

Each of us walked in silent tandem
Forsaken voices of the memorandum
Morning sun show me things astray.
Evening darkness take it all away.

For all choices a consequence occurs
Each choice an angel or devil concurs
But while we think about what the words mean
People are suffering as shown on the Exhibit 13

The words are powerful and true
More so important than me or you
So consider for a moment your new pairs of shoes.
And think about the suffrage not shown in news.

I miss them all and their smiling faces.
They miss me in solitary saving graces.
Little children who run and play without worry.
No nightmares of destiny nor dreams of glory.

Aeons ago, history folds and unfolds
Facing reality of all the news and olds.
Long ago, mankind was deathly afraid of Chickenpox
But here and today, history only abhors a paradox