Bibocious

“Role” of the Dice           The thorns’ scratch, and the thistles’ prick; a scar and a spear, and I’m sick.  Heals one, the other – not yet; a new earth and heaven wipes away fret.  The scar retells what is mine alone, but the hole won’t close until pain is gone.  I forget the thorns until feeling the scars; thistles’ ache be gone better by far.           There’s no splendor in thorns, green receives green.  There’s allure in thistles, though mean stab unseen.  The thorns’ want can wound one’s dignity, but thistles’ raid bare others’ iniquity.  I should have known better when grasping the thorns, but of the subtilty of thistles matters not who warns.           I live with blemishes thorns leave behind, but inside thistles’ wound no cure can I find.  Marks are thorns’ message I wasn’t too smart, but why’s thistles’ trauma never depart?  A former failed test, the latter no way declares; is thorns’ message mine and thistles’ theirs?           The thorns’ truths and the thistles’ lies, ma

NATIONAL HYPOCRISY Counterfeit Christianity, manipulated by the powers of darkness leading the world, becomes easier to see daily, even for the lost.   I doubt you know any so-called Christians who are not under its control; you may doubt it, but that probably includes you too.   You are just someone trying to protect your wanton lifestyle.   Do you find yourself engaged in the world’s affairs, defending, or debating the evils being forced on societies instead of being separate from the world?   Are you worried about your carnal life, or its loss, or the loss of the pleasures you have come to love?   No one who is deceived, or a hypocrite is aware they are such, even Jesus said, “ the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service .”   I have been in just about every church denomination in this nation (including Roman Catholic).   In my journeys I was only in one church that had some measure of spiritual power, but they eventually abandoned it for th

Inquisition What, will I do now?   A fitting question for this moment.   The truth is that I do not know but what I know has led me to this point.   So, who am I?   I am not what others call me or how they refer to me, including the world itself.   It is easy for me to refuse these identities because they do not matter.   I am sick of the world, and exhausted with living in this perverse and crooked place.   What I am witnessing is the separation of dominions, and the fact that there are so few (if any) seeking the truth. I have an affinity for truth and know people who have truths of this world but none with the truth of God.   For instance, the inescapable truth of death is clouded in the foolishness of the world and those trying to live in the world.   I cannot blame them for loving their worldly lives because it is likely the only one they will have without the eventual self-induced torment of losing it.   A warning, there are those who use the truth of death to rule others.