Impaléd thrice doth blood flow. ‘For man which doth cause all woe!’Read More
…to leave reality
and sty to fantasy
Oh the bliss of slumber
‘tis jovial wonder!
Who am I to thee draw nigh?
and who am I that thou wouldst die?
What have mine hands wrought? Light away and darkness brought? Am I become mad? Alack, mine hands are red clad?Read More
Contrary to popular belief amongst credo-baptists, paedobaptism (infant baptism) is found in Holy Writ…Read More
The dreamless state be a mighty foe. /
O good Lord do grant it a great below; /
Send forth thy ministers of fierce flame /
Impatience is a poison. /
‘Tis a cloud that covers wit. /
It converts sense to chaos /
And teareth cool temp’rance down.
There is a woman in a distant land, Far in the forests of Acadia, Who possesseth both beauty and wisdom. The locks of her hair are fabulous flamesRead More
O the silence was loud, nay, blaring /
Whereupon every sound thereafter /
could only be likened to thunder /
Alack the torture of frozen time! /
and the ardent boredom of black night!
My heart was hell, a deepening abyss. My soul, wrapped in chains, unable to find peace. I staggered along with fellow students on the way to morning chapel. This stroll was familiar as it was required of us each weekday morning. It was a bright sunny day in Southern California and my whole being throbbed with woe.
NO! It can’t be true!
Abba Father, what am I that thou wouldst knowledge me?
Behold, I am iniquitous and unclean!
Cleanse me and clean me within!
Sin is a seductive shadow;
the damning dark that dwells within.
It keenly kills all kinds of man.
All folk are formed in its fury…
Summer sun does shine sheenly
Raising rays radiant rich
Leaves live and grow with glory
Calid colours crowd our land…
Falls my heart in th’ocean black!
My knees drop and I do lament!
A life was born and now ‘tis dead—
Nay! Not just one but twain are dead!
Night is day and day is night;
My mind is frayed and in fright!
Motions move and swirl inside;
Bubbling thoughts do ne’er subside…
Thrill I feel in my steps;
I joy in my wand’rings.
Staﬀ in hand, I’ll through land—
roaming as I desire…
Truly our world is broken—
Everywhere the cracks are seen!
All places have their token—
Everywhere there’s a black mien!
Look! O Look, lad! The land doth die!
Dark is come and has swept the sky!
Frost falls and the flowers do fade.
Cumbrous clouds cover us with shade…
Past pictures pilfer my time
mesmerous maze of ages
lost in moments mortiﬁed
dreaded dreams and long lost joys…