The Famous Lamb’s Blood

It’s like a wave from the ocean,
But dry like air,
Not breezy like wind though,
It blankets your body,
From head to toe,
As it enters your soul.

You’re left with a feeling,
You’d like to keep on repeating,
Complete,
Though you’re vacant and starving,
Very soon you’ll need more. 

Now you’re unsoiled,
Even if covered in mud,
Found by the blood,
Makes you supernaturally cleaner,
Than you’ve ever been.

Dark forces will try,
Telling you it’s not real,
For what they’ve never experienced,
To them can’t have much appeal.

Do not let them steal,
The way it’s made you feel,
Remember the best paths tend to be narrow,
And at times have never even seen a harrow.

This life’s a long hard road,
Lucky,
Now you won’t be going it alone,
You’ve gained a spirit guide,
Who’ll lead you safely,
To the better side.

Just Some Inspiration

The entire universe,             
Runs on intention,                  
It’s up to each individual,
Whether for you it comes through,
As faith,
Or hope,
Or magical incantation.

You must not only think it,
But actually feel it,
Believe it,
Only then can you receive it.

Reach out with your whole being,
Mind, body, and soul,
So you are fully seeing,
Whatever needs to transpire,
To make your river smoothly flow.

Through your mind’s eye,
You must create a picture,
Take it and project it,
Into the universe,
And in the name of whatever or whomever,
In which you stake your trust,
Demand that this coming to pass,
Is a fucking must.

Everything runs on energy,
But it’s not necessarily electricity,
For us humans,
When at full power,
Determination is potent,
And the reaped results show it.

You must expect,
Be thinking like it’s already here,
Or the blessing will get checked,
And your needs and hopes,
May as well,
Be written off,
Yep………. shot to hell.

Don’t ever let your will power waver,
Have staying power,
Until it’s your hour.

If you doubt it,
Rather than shout it,
Your reward,
Will never match,
What us with open minds and hearts have scored.

Godsend

A flood of peace,
Swept through my soul,
It temporarily patched the hole,
And made me feel,
Almost whole.

I was able to sleep,
More than a wink,
Like I hadn’t,
In almost a week.

**********

But let’s back up,
To when thunder struck,
And every imaginable,
Type of hurt,
Made me wish I was under,
Six feet of dirt.

There were hot spots and cold fronts,
But I must be a dunce,
For I held out hope,
That this time I may be taken,
As more than a joke.

The hot spots did not last long,
They were like maybe just the first bar,
And the cold fronts were endured,
As long as the rest of the song went on.

**********

So back now to present time,
I could not think,
There was every negative emotion,
Swirling through my head,
Like a storm out in the ocean.

I tried to calm down,
But as no definitive dreams came,
My mind continued to drown,
Then I remembered a trick,
That can solve any problem,
And the only thing needed,
Is a certain book about two inches thick.

Without a doubt,
It was time for supernatural help,
Answers weren’t coming on their own,
I’d have to conjure them alone.

So out came the giant purple volume,
And I closed my eyes,
To ask about the burden,
Eating me up inside.

I call this my magic eight ball,
And it always answers when I call,
My hands were guided to the exact needed excerpt,
And I was prompted to pay attention most especially,
To the one numbered as twenty.

Oh I don’t know why I was even surprised,
The response was just what I had surmised,
And that night I was able to close my eyes,
And sleep for the first time in ages,
Soundly until the time came to rise.

**********

Now if the patch can hold,
Until the conclusion,
At what’s bound to be,
One hell of a reunion……….

Whose Disciples?

Satan’s here,
The sheep sing and rejoice,
Though that’s not who they think they’re praising,
When they use their voice.

Sound asleep,
Even while wide awake,
Their very soul at stake,
Brainwashed they are,
Worshipping a creep,
Thinking He’s the shepherd of all sheep.

During this war,
They need His help,
Like never before,
They ask for a handout,
But it’s not who they think,
That has answered their call,
So they’ll need to make one more.

They think He’s come from up high,
But the guy is sly,
No way was He ever,
The One Who Lives In The Sky.

Masquerading,
As the One True Messiah,
And answering pleas,
When times are most dire,
He’s bending,
The unsuspecting,
To do His dirty work,
Going undercover,
Behind Law and Church.

Some gather together,
To glorify His name,
While others alone,
Play into His game,
Either way,
To His famous name they pray,
Thinking it’ll lead them,
To never ending sunny days.

He’s everywhere,
But white as snow – my fucking ass!
……….Religion’s a shady shitshow,
And unnecessary,
This I surely fucking know,
Yes they’ll end up with Him,
But it’ll be Down Below.

Be nice!
Be good!
Behave!
…………But be no one’s fucking slave!