You may say that it is a fine time to pen lines that rhyme
When life makes no sense
Just this sickening pretence of a life lived with no presence
At this time when we flood our homes with bountiful presents
And all that glitters, while our hearts remain bitter
Whilst we sit back and smile behind our masks
Hearts and minds distorted by demonic lies and ties that bind
Leaving us blind
Even Jesus said we’d have troubles in these times
Take a look outside
You know that place beyond your door and your shiny polished floor
Weary wanderers, sick of this world drift on by
Lost souls walk on by tearily
Yet we remain silent – stuck in our places
Like mimes on the street corner - hiding our faces
From the mirror that illuminates the state of our souls
For uur souls are dying – halfway out the door
Heading for the coroner
Even Jesus said we’d have troubles in these times
Fear and folly follow us endlessly
Lives distorted by the synergistic symphony of sin
That sounds like a storm in our minds
Echoes of our painful past remain a constant refrain
Spiritually and emotionally maimed
We hope that the next day brings – something better in a future claimed
We seek relief from this dreary slavery we find ourselves bound to
Day after day…slaves to our desires and dreams
Locked and fettered by our search for fame
Even Jesus said we’d have troubles in these times
Sometimes it is hard to hear the truth
But here we are arguing of whose lives matter
When the world plainly tells you…the answer….is none
Many sit lonely…wondering if their life is in fact done
Darkness surrounds them like a suffocating cloud
It tugs and pulls at their soul
Trying to break it open upon the dirt stained floor
All the more - regrets and shame blacken their name
So that they hold their lives in distain
Even Jesus said we’d have troubles in these times
Well-meaning lives, sin-soaked and rotten
Even our righteousness is like so many filthy rags
Stacked in the corner – discarded and forgotten
The world offers no hope – no answer to our ills
Only the contents of a bottle and a packet of pills
Forget all the king’s men and all the king’s horses
Humanity can’t put this world back together again
It can only build elaborate edifices to itself - Babel on steroids
As Babylon rises from the shifting sand - into all our lands
Even Jesus said we’d have troubles in these times
So where do we look?
In these times where all seems to be forsook
So, we turn our heads to the sky and cry - Yahweh!!!
Yahweh – the great ‘I Am’ - hear our pleas to thee
Your son you sent - that babe turned to man
Who lived, died and rose again according to your plan
Who are we that your son died on an accursed tree?
Who are we that you seek to break the chains that bind?
To clear our slate from our sinful fate
© 2023 - Crossroads2theCross