The beauty's in the drudgery
The growth is His delight
The fight, the valiant fight
See, THAT's His delight
The clay of my unsteady heart
He molds and crafts
Or holds back?
Perhaps, but I can't understand
It's all in the timing!
Embrace the pain
For fire is refined the same way
New ventures await!
And while the earth quakes
I still feel hate
Vulnerable and naked
My bones ache
My ribcage starts
Unable to hold this unsteady heart
Believe it or not
Love will prove
It's good versus evil
And Love will prove!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sin
The aftermath is now
Complete is the cancer's spreading
Undeniably complete
Slapped in the face
You recoil back
And ask if I want to take it back
Credibility destroyed
My head is hung
Vulnerability realized
As I hold the smoking gun
Existence and time and space are halted
As the Master of all inclines His ear
The air that fills my lungs is a luxury
Emerged from the water
Cut me off
Shame encompasses the greater side
As I extinguish my own light
Tears of sorrow you shed
As oblivious to the sacrifice I still remain
Complete is the cancer's spreading
Undeniably complete
Slapped in the face
You recoil back
And ask if I want to take it back
Credibility destroyed
My head is hung
Vulnerability realized
As I hold the smoking gun
Existence and time and space are halted
As the Master of all inclines His ear
The air that fills my lungs is a luxury
Emerged from the water
Cut me off
Shame encompasses the greater side
As I extinguish my own light
Tears of sorrow you shed
As oblivious to the sacrifice I still remain
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Entry #2
Curses! How could I be so blind?
A new, exciting route of destruction has been unveiled to my ignorant eyes. One of sure prosperity in the condemnation of my subject. As many mortals do, my subject often looks to the future; to a plateau of spiritual contentment with the Enemy. He thinks of the here and now as a dreadful storm before the calm. Some thought-infiltration later (a very handy method with this disgusting human), and he's delightfully discouraged again. "You're working towards nothing," I whisper meticulously. "It's all a rat race, it'll never get any easier."
Quickly, however, my success was foiled, as the subject immediately when into converse with the Enemy. My ears burning and anger flaring, I was cast away by The Almighty One. My seeds, however, still remain.
The paradox that concerns me is this: If my efforts to thwart the peace of my human's mind only results in his clinging to the Enemy, what good am I? Truly this will be a battle. Continued study of his weaknesses is required.
-Scourge
A new, exciting route of destruction has been unveiled to my ignorant eyes. One of sure prosperity in the condemnation of my subject. As many mortals do, my subject often looks to the future; to a plateau of spiritual contentment with the Enemy. He thinks of the here and now as a dreadful storm before the calm. Some thought-infiltration later (a very handy method with this disgusting human), and he's delightfully discouraged again. "You're working towards nothing," I whisper meticulously. "It's all a rat race, it'll never get any easier."
Quickly, however, my success was foiled, as the subject immediately when into converse with the Enemy. My ears burning and anger flaring, I was cast away by The Almighty One. My seeds, however, still remain.
The paradox that concerns me is this: If my efforts to thwart the peace of my human's mind only results in his clinging to the Enemy, what good am I? Truly this will be a battle. Continued study of his weaknesses is required.
-Scourge
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Dear friends
Greetings,
You don't know me. Or see me. That's ok, though. My name is Scourgewire. I'm writing an update on the damnation of my subject, Matthew Kenyon. I figured I'd use the internet (a tool paramount in the failure of other's souls) to advertise his temptations. I notice my subject bases many things on sheer emotion. Such disgusting fluctuation of the human "heart" detests me, but delights me to no end when I consider how it may be used to destroy him.
I've been recently capitalizing on my subject's sense of what mortals refer to as "guilt". Such a fool, this boy! Does he not know the Enemy, with strangely proud motives, wiped his guilt clean when Our Master hung Him on the tree? Of course he does! My job, however, is to keep that gut-wrenching truth in the back of his mind. His consistent prayer, however, is a nuisance that needs to be exploited in the near future. More soon.
-Scourgewire
You don't know me. Or see me. That's ok, though. My name is Scourgewire. I'm writing an update on the damnation of my subject, Matthew Kenyon. I figured I'd use the internet (a tool paramount in the failure of other's souls) to advertise his temptations. I notice my subject bases many things on sheer emotion. Such disgusting fluctuation of the human "heart" detests me, but delights me to no end when I consider how it may be used to destroy him.
I've been recently capitalizing on my subject's sense of what mortals refer to as "guilt". Such a fool, this boy! Does he not know the Enemy, with strangely proud motives, wiped his guilt clean when Our Master hung Him on the tree? Of course he does! My job, however, is to keep that gut-wrenching truth in the back of his mind. His consistent prayer, however, is a nuisance that needs to be exploited in the near future. More soon.
-Scourgewire
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