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Ballad Religion Poems | Ballad Poems About Religion

These Ballad Religion poems are examples of Ballad poems about Religion. These are the best examples of Ballad Religion poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Martyr for the Unorthodox word

If I had over 10,000 dreams You'd be the only thing my mind could see Judgment couldn't be real Succumbing to the fear of this cold life Find a way to break through The self-destruction of wordly delusions Don't tell me I've lived so long in a lovely illusion Break me down until we find a Nirvanic state Then bring me a savior from transgressions An atoning sacrifice Send down to me a messenger for me to submit to Bring me the truth to break through The delusion Bring me the messenger to explain it all And let me leave behind Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Ballad | |

Precious Promises

Fear not, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by your name.
To demonstrate my glory;
To my majesty bring fame.
When you pass through the waters,
I’ll be by your side;
No river will over flow you,
For my hand is on the tide.

Fear not my child, 
For you are my own.
When you walk through the fire,
No burn or scorch will be shown.
I have redeemed you;
Let the whole world know.
I will always be with you,
Wherever you walk below.

I am the Lord your God;
Your Savior who cares;
Watches over you daily;
Takes care of your trials and fears.
Claim my precious promises;
Believe what I say.
Faith is the essence;
Love, leading to obedience, is my pathway.

I seek the lost who are troubled,
And ask you to go;
Tell them of your Savior;
Not one soul forego.
Tell them they have a Savior;
Who wants them to be redeemed.
They need not fear the circumstances,
Where my promises are esteemed.

Featured in my book No. 2, "Poetry To Touch the Heart & Soul"
Copyright © 2009-2011 Maureen LeFanue
www.godsgreetings.org

Copyright © MAUREEN LEFANUE

Details | Ballad | |

The News: Lack of Love

The News: Lack of Love

We couldn’t read the news, nor decode a word
Nor the cries and prayers among the relics of hearts
I didn’t understand why freedom couldn’t taste Albanian
I couldn’t believe that we started hurting animals

And I committed suicide because I believed, wanted to breath
Me, or…repeatedly my shadow, or someone else
Those, I gave a hand and received poison and bullets; rusty words and iron
We were killing; bloody hands remained above the hell of love

Letters and verses torture unstoppable dormant conscience
The kind of people who soaked homeland, faith and soul of forefathers
Bloody infant of tears that don’t dry squirms yet today
And we remain orphans of love on the roads of the world

I don’t want to believe in animalistic nation that suffers from misdemeanor offenses
And, I don’t know why I hang myself through the pathetic hope of remake
What kind of damnation sucks the tired pieces of motherland cells?!
On behalf of who would be said my self-hanging, if there still exists tomorrow!

Pause of self-hanging through the national romanticism is like a homeland without love
Man, only fragile fiction of broken dream as ancient mosaic,
Oh, I need a pause to inhale tobacco smoke,
To not believe that we are hurting animals, oh my Lord...!

Copyright © bekim tocani

Details | Ballad | |

The Lottery

I have won the lottery
Though the numbers are not drawn.
I'm promised that it's foolproof,
So my waiting won't be long.

I have my winning ticket
Mounted to the wall.
Each day I bow down to it
Praying for the draw.

These numbers are quite special.
A wise man told me so.
He said he got the numbers
From another long ago.

You've got your set of numbers,
But they are not like mine. 
I'd say that's rather foolish
Because my numbers are divine. 

There can only be one winner
And mine is guaranteed.
You'd better change your numbers,
So you can be as smart as me.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs

Details | Ballad | |

The Miracle

Lift the wailing wood
Hammer the tortured nails
Place the ghostly steps
Below the battered rails

Invite those crazy strangers
Dressed in stranger clothes
Join the mighty miracle 
Ready to unfold

Building a stairway 
In the desert
Aimed toward the pure and honest sky
Building a stairway
In the desert
Going to rise for miles
And miles 

Leave this evil town
Where scorpions share your bed
Guilty snakes make a home
Deep inside your head

The bleeding sun
Burns your feet
Hangmen joke
Beggars weep

Buried bodies
Cry for help
Undertakers
Steal your wealth

Building a stairway 
In the desert
Aimed toward the pure and honest sky
Building a stairway
In the desert
Going to rise for miles
And miles 

We’re laughing and      					
We’re dancing				 	
In the desert				
Dancing in the desert			
Of our lives				

Can’t you see?
We’re dancing in the desert
Dancing in the desert 
Of our lives

Feel so free				
Dancing in the desert				
Dancing in the desert 			 		
Of our lives				

Free….so free
In the desert
Dancing in the desert
Of our lives

Lift the wailing wood
Hammer the tortured nails

Copyright © Catman Cohen

Details | Ballad | |

LOVE FOR MY FATHER

I sometimes sit and wonder, dad are you with me? and are you sad?
I think of the time I had with him here on earth
He was a this frail, little man who loved the Lord 
He certainly did all he could, he loved yellow for he stood out in a crowd
My dad was a wonderful person and friend
You just had to do for him, he was always so happy and never sad
To have some help from time to time, he loved you to come see him
He was a true man of God
He went to church and gave all he had
He never had extravagant things
He loved the basics of having furniture and clothes
When I gave him the rocking chair for Fathers Day in 2008,
Little did I know he was getting ready to leave this earth
I remember being so very happy to see, the smile on his face
When I would come near
The thing I am trying to express for all of us is  to love your fathers and
Give them your trust
For you never know that this little man from God in yellow 
He may still be sitting in the church he loved. 
I remember always my father he was, the light of my life and now he is with the
Lord above
Love your fathers and let them know that you truly love them so.....

Copyright © Laurel Larison

Details | Rhyme | |

Ballad Of The Happy Valley Baptist Church

Accordin'  to my totally unbiased and very detailed research,
Jerimiah Flood pastored the Happy Valley Baptist Church.
From the pulpit he flailed his arms as if fightin' a hive of bees,
Elicitin' "Hallelujahs" and bringin' sinners fallin' to their knees!

His boomin' voice disturbed the peace of those who chose to sleep.
Interminable two-hour sermons were tolerated by his faithful flock of sheep.
He preached hellfire and damnation and the dire results of sin.
He was a'gin any form of gamblin' or dancin' and drinkin' moonshine gin!

An all-day meetin' with dinner on the grounds was an annual tradition,
A time to repent for sins of commission and omission in order to avoid perdition!
Dinner was held under the spreadin' sycamores if the weather allowed.
A half-hour blessin' by Jerimiah was normal as hungry stomachs growled!

Tables groaned 'neath heaps of fried chicken, baked beans and pertaters,
Green bean casseroles and garden fresh stuff includin' beefsteak termaters.
Most disturbin' and unknown to the reverend, there was a little tad of booze,
Snuck into the gatherin' and surreptitiously shared by old Deacon Hughes!

Pastor Flood served the faithful congregation for nigh on forty years,
Baptisin', marryin' and buryin' through many happy times and tears.
Oh, I failed to mention Sister Lois, ancient organist and director of the choir.
Her tea was spiked and she became so inebriated she was invited to retire!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw

Details | Ballad | |

THE WEARING OF THE GREEN

On Roman ruled British isle, to the deacon and his wife fair; 
On a beautiful morn, our Patrick was born, in a forth century lair 

Young and bright as a button; taken by knavish raiders - not fair
At tender age sixteen, long time not be seen, a dutiful slave to Eire

God spoke to devoted Patrick in a dream on this Emerald Isle
Boarded ship and set sail, in Britain to tell the tale; Gaul: priesthood and file
 
In 432, back to Eire to convert the pagans worshiping even a rock 
To explain the Holy Trinity, enlightening them till affinity, he used the shamrock

Pat inspired the Irish festival, history tells his colour was blue,
The wearing of the Green, even if one can't keen - Skyfest invites all parties true


Sung by a tone deaf (they all were) mistrel, tanked up on green beer
   
BALLAD METRE 

See the About section for details on which this poem was based. Thank you.

Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms:
This metre (BALLAD METRE) may also be interpreted (and sometimes printed) as a couplet of seven-stress lines, as in Kipling's ‘Ballad of East and West’ (1889):

Copyright © Suzette Richards

Details | Ballad | |

Most Richly Blessed

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve,
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things,
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy,
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men,
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life,
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing I asked for--
but everything I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my
unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men,
most richly blessed.

Copyright © Bryanna Williams

Details | Ballad | |

A lesson from the Buddha

 A Lesson From the Buddha

The Buddha had been getting round
And listening to the crowd.
He’d often sat there silently
And heard them moan so loud
About their own sad burdens
And all the hurt they’d had.
So he thought up a little plan
That didn’t seem half bad.

He called the crowd together
Said “listen here you guys
I’ve been thinking for a great long while
And I have thought it wise
To grow a special tree for you
And here it lies before you
Now listen well to what I say
I’ll tell you what to do”

He said “this tree before you
It’s to hang your troubles on
Each one of you must go to it
And your troubles will be gone
As you hang them on it’s many branches
Then what you’ll need to do
Is take yourself some others burdens
And make them part of you”

The people thought that this was cool
It seemed a grand old way
To rid themselves of all their burdens
It was a happy day!
As each smiling so broadly
Placed there burdens on the tree
Then they thought for just a while
And they began to see.

As each the truth did hit them
More restless did they get
At least they knew their burdens
So each with no regrets
Did race back to that trouble tree
To grab what they had hung there
The Buddha smiled good humoredly
He had made them all aware.

29 July 2013 @ 1805hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Ballad | |

Receiving The Lord And Sharing His Word 1

I lovingly proclaim I am a Christian,
This does not mean I am any more good,
Than anyone else who I may meet or greet,
Rather it means I know I've been fooled,

I've been fooled into thinking that I,
Had all the answers and knew the way,
When I had not a clue about the road,
And how I arrived there that day,

For the world came crushing down,
Leaving me with a soul full of hurt,
And just when I felt there was no hope,
I was given a precious copy of the word,

And in that prison I lingered so long,
That I read the Word and slowly grew,
I found great promises and stories told,
And slowly absorbed all that I could,

And through this personal trial,
I found myself convicted of the truth,
And as I continued to study the Word,
I felt the spirit overtake this fool,

I was blind but now could see,
The blessed gift I received,
Placed me at the feet of my master,
Knowing that the least of men was me,

I found just how very much I was loved,
By first believing and opening the door,
Opening with a heart fully convicted,
The Holy Spirit filled me to the core,

But my trials did not end there,
I had to learn to turn the other cheek,
I had to care for the hopeless,
And learn the lessons of the meek,

But from seasoning by fire,
Came a man humble who now knows,
That this true disciple inspired,
Would hold faith which always grows,

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On

Details | Ballad | |

Cassandra

Revelation Said In Stone Appeared an Eon ago of Shame and Sin, Something we all know But not it's rise, For is has already became Virtue Flaming Skies from an Angel So Bright The World's Cure for Soul-Blight A Hell on Earth A Savior's Worth So many Dreams are cast then Forgotten So many lives are brought up then just Thrown back down Maybe she is The Cure Maybe she is The Plan All Fear the Flame Failed Creation of Samael She Comes from the Deep She Comes from The Heavens' Vault To End the dawn of the Demon Purge this land of all Vice Kali Yuga will be nevermore The one of Sublime Cassandra, Bringer of Muspelheim Release me and Burn away this land Hold me by The Hand Tell me the past is just pretend Give me The Cure If this is your destiny Then May it be mine I would die in time I'm Just another Obstacle In the way of your divine Wings Forget me Cassandra For Doom was already meant for me All Fear the Flame Failed Creation of Samael She Comes from the Deep She Comes from The Heavens' Vault To End the dawn of the Demon Purge this land of all Vice Kali Yuga will be nevermore The one of Sublime Cassandra, Bringer of Muspelheim Valkyrie of Heart Angel of Grace I surrender to You Savior by Destiny Dispel all Tragedy Especially me All Fear the Flame Failed Creation of Samael She Comes from the Deep She Comes from The Heavens' Vault To End the dawn of the Demon Purge this land of all Vice Kali Yuga will be nevermore The one of Sublime Cassandra, Bringer of Muspelheim

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Ballad | |

A Saga Awaits You

The crowd pushes as your soul pulls,
You along your path to obscurity,
Where the light is engulfed,
By the clouds of eternity...

Timidly you lag behind,
Lost in the eddies of time,
And slowly you trudge,
To the same old grind...

But for the one who sees,
Dreams in splendored color,
The seeker holds the keys,
As one searches for the other...

Sparks of desire flood your mind,
While the cold dark streets glow,
From burnt embers lost in time,
And mounds of dashed hopes below...

You thrash and flail in utter desperation,
And you need that which can not be known,
Unless one is seasoned by your imagination,
When the dream is passed and the hope is grown...
Then it comes to you in a flash,
Love must be shared to exist,
So to others your hope is passed,
And your light escapes the mist...

The seeker surveys the vast multitude,
To find the source of the light,
Where the gift of hope was shared and grew,
Piercing the thin veil of night...

And to these dreamers is dared,
A glimpse of wisdom anew,
For you who love and share,
A saga awaits you...

Prepare to finally see,
The source for finding purpose,
In all that you do and can be,
Lies in what you can do for us... 

For selfish deeds trap us, 
And kindness offers you much more,
Once you apply this to practice,
Blinding light will pour forth...

And as the secret is shared,
Love rekindles the awakenings,
Among all those lost and scared,
Wonder and awe the new day brings...

Remember the grandness of this tale,
The next time you find yourself lost,
For what you offer is the holy grail,
So much hope... for so little cost!

My Gull Wheels On!

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On

Details | Ballad | |

Humanity Lost

Wings spread out, the sun in its face, a scavenger set out hunting, Looking for anything it could find to satisfy its hunger; Down below a little boy lay, barely alive, hardly breathing, His battered face turned towards the lifeless body of his father. The ground around him once dusty and dry, Now wet with the blood of this innocent child… Death hovered over him, lingering, waiting, watching; Time slowed down, the child blinked – and then never opened his eyes. A hundred flies quenched their thirst, the blood now pooled beside them. The vulture circled overhead, now joined by his friends, The table was set, their lunch was served, For the little boy and his father it was a gruesome end! Victims of a war, not that among nations… Rather a war of the human spirit, twisted by false ideals Humans killing humans in the name of religion; Blinded by hate, fuelled by intolerance, humanity’s dark side revealed. The vultures and flies enjoy their fill, While we whisper a prayer for those lost souls; What will it take to stop this madness? What will it take to heal this world? (A tribute to the lives lost in the recent religious conflicts)

Copyright © Samuel John

Details | Ballad | |

Listen

Listen to the buzzing, in your ears,
Listen to the humming, of your fears,
Listen to the baby, crying inside,
Listen to the pleading, in your lover's eyes.
Listen to the music, you have never played,
Listen to the sinner, who's never been saved.
Listen to the empty, silence of your mind,
Listen to the whispers, of man kind.
Listen to the never, heard nor seen,
Listen to the listener, who has never been.
Listen to the monkey, you know you really are,
Listen to the wise man, who's never been that far.
Listen to the dying, crying man,
Listen to the bottle, buried in the sand.
Listen to meaning, you never really meant,
Listen to the letter, you never really sent.
Listen to the lovers, who loved another one,
Listen to the brothers, torturing their mum.
Listen to the noisy, who never say a thing,
Listen to the silent, crying deep within.
Listen to the never, ever really said,
Listen to the dead man, laying in his bed.
Listen to the flying, dying man,
Listen to the solid, only made of sand,
Listen to the night time, they told you that was day,
Listen to the meaning, they stole an took away.
Listen to the singer, who never made a sound,
Listen to the thunder, in the lightning cloud.
Listen to the voices, you never hear within,
Listen to the last train's whistle, whistling.

Copyright © ness tillson

Details | Ballad | |

CONQUERING DIVISIONS

I am not made a full blown beauty..
Nor I live a life of purity; charity & piety..
All I like to do is to live with identity..
Not of being a witty but a life of humility..

I tried to be a more social person..
Cracking out the shell I have put up..
Breaking from my own weakness..
Doing best in my found strengths..

I have craved to reach out to people..
Widening my horizon, increasing my knowledge and awareness..
Learning to acknowledge fellow human beings..
Regardless of who they are and where they from..

They said: "I must not do this as it is dangerous.."
but I stand to what I know: "Inside all human beings is the reflection of God.."
I give due and equal chance..
As my God have freely given me opportunities too..

We people are living in same earth..
Different are we because of status, faith or race..
Let not this be the reason for us to be divided..
Rather we must come in unison conquering divisions..

By: olive_eloi
22/10/2013
1:16am

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Details | Ballad | |

Why Dogs Have Wet Noses

This tale dates back to Noah
and his famous ark built of wood,
how he saved a pair of canines,
not behaving as they should.
 
The animals lined up two by two,
each pair logged in at the gate,
for God had said it was crucial,
every creature participate.

The mischevious dogs were oblivious,
that their turn for boarding was near,
Noah called to them impatiently.
“dogs come, check in over here”.					
					 			
They wanted to play, not listen
and when Noah lost sight of the two,
he put in an emergency call to God,
asking him what he should do.

He was told the flood was upon them,
through the downpour, before it got dark,
his eyes searched the water, he spotted 
dogs swimming frantically out to the ark.

He opened the hatch, there was barely room,
though he tugged to fit both of them in,
he had no heart to cast them aside,
and he knew it would be a sin.

Everything fit but their noses
so he drilled two holes in the wood,
forty days and nights their noses got soaked,
never got warm and dried like they should..

Thanks to a couple of water drenched pups
God taught a lesson they wouldn’t forget,
thereafter each dog he created was doomed
to live with a nose that was wet!


 


Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly

Details | Ballad | |

The Artist and The Poet

There aint no other way how to put it or how to say it,Im the Artist and the Poet/
 Through my created creations I show it/ Im gonna rize to the poetic mountain top before you even know it/
 This my poetry and self-made concrete art only I control it/ So all ya critics out there behold it/
 I was gone for a minute locked up and locked down trapped inside concrete/ 
I was at work the whole time my poetic skills only got better they did not sleep/
 Now I arize through shackles and chains I now know true defeat/ 
Im here to stay Im the artist keeper the true se7en poet of keep/ 
I will do what I gotta to be poetically remembered the day I go se7en feet deep/
 But for now my life upon ya'll I lyrically creep/ 
My thoughts are one of a kind they cannot be replicated/ 
Im so relevant now fifty years from now I still wont be outdated/ 
Its your coice you can love it or you can hate it/ Go ahead haters debate it/ 
Still Im the Artist and the Poet thats my motto statement/ 
A whole empire of poetry and artwork since lockdown I have painfully with pleasure created/ NEVER AGAIN WILL MY ART AND POETRY BE UNDERRATED/
 I was nothing before all the time spent in concrete and confinement/ 
Now Im truly poetic with artistic assignments/ Anything I draw I can also rhyme it/
 There are more to my tattoos each one has a story and a meaning behind it/ 
I knew there was hope in poetic art I just had to find it/ 
All I got to say now is "F@#k ya'll who wanna Doubt me/ 
F&%k all dat shyt you judge me like Im on American Idol when you dont even know shyt bout me/
 Your vision of life is blurry and your death thoughts seem to be a lil cloudy/ 
I am a Poetistic Diamond in the rough it was God it wasnt you who found me/ 
Now I know more people from around the way gon crowd me/ where money and trouble again will surround me/
 I was a lost gem on lockdown waiting to shine, waiting to poetyically explode/ 
A natural born poet carving out my own road/ Living by my own F%$#%ckin poetic codes/
 I can't be rhymefest free when I get lost in that poetic mode/ 
My Time is almost here/ I been waiting for this momnet all f&&%&ing year/ 
I cant believe I made through many concrete shed tears and many unheard of outside fears/
 My freedom day is near I will not blow it/ 
This my time now homie I control it/ Im concretely the smartest writer even if you aint know it/
 MAKE WAY PEOPLE FOR THE SE7EN KING ARTIST AND POET

Copyright © Travis Lone Hill

Details | Ballad | |

Words of the master

Words of the master

A man once asked the master
Which of us has the worth?
To enter in the holy kingdom
This man was down to Earth
And liked to ask the questions
The truth he had to know
The master looked into his eyes
With a deep, and holy glow.

A Rabbi, he took note of this
He thought it would be he
For he had all the virtues
Such a holy man he be
The master looked on past this man
Till his eyes lit on a child
He called the small child unto him
And at the lad he smiled.

He took the child into his arms
And said for all to hear
Those who be like this small child
The father he holds dear
They have the worth to enter in
My father holy place
The crowd they did not understand
Confusion touched each face


These words the master spoke, were true
To find that holy place
One must re find his innocence
Re-enter each that space
That each of us were born into
Each soul must delve within
And find the joy that each did know
When their days, did first begin.

16 December 2013 @ 1310hrs.




Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Ballad | |

A woman

A woman
Rommel E. Gabitan


is a temptress that lures
hundreds of souls into their curse
Helpless Adam tempted by Eve
suffers now because he is bare

Naked as a baby, he helplessly crawls
into the depth and breadth of his soul
Regretting intensely, that he had eaten
the Ancient Apple that was Forbidden

Crying in despair is Adam the Man
leaving his Paradise in the midst of anger
Of the Mighty Creator, full of Compassion
Who promised to give him Eternal Salvation

Copyright © ROMMEL espano

Details | Ballad | |

God's Love Song

God's Love Song


You are the 'apple of my eye'
You've been gone for way too long
It's time for you to come back
Come back home.

It doesn't matter what you've done
Or where you have been
It's time for you to come back
You're Forgiven.

Come back home--to me
Come back home--you'll see...
         Love is gentle
         Love is kind
         Love wants to be around all the time
         Love is always there in what you're going through
That's my love for you...Oh..
That's my love for you.

I'm stretching out my arms again
Reach out and take my hand
I'll wipe away the past
I understand.

As a child I called your name
And gave new life to you,
It's time now, that you come back
I still love you.

Come back home--to me
Come back home--you'll see...
         Love is gentle
         Love is kind
         Love wants to be around all the time
         Love is always there in what you're going through
That's my love--for you...Oh...
That's my love--
For you...

~by deborah burch©
9/19/2005

Copyright © Deborah Burch

Details | Ballad | |

God's Own Son

As Mary rocks her baby boy
She's filled with sadness, filled with joy.
She looks upon that tiny face
And sees hope in every race.

Her heart is filled with a mothers glow
And she never wants to let him go.
She'll see him run around and laugh and play
And longs to keep him safe each day.

His life won't be an easy one,
His destiny hard, as God's own Son.

Mary sees the miracles he will perform,
The lepers healed and free from scorn.
The lame will walk, the blind will see.
She sees his love will set us free.

And she sees him on a cross.
She feels his pain and feels our loss.
She knows his life must come to this.
She sheds a tear and gives a kiss.

His life won't be and easy one,
His destiny hard, as God's own Son.

So as Christmastime draws near
And we are all so "busy" here,
With shopping, baking, trees of green
Let's ask, what does this really mean?

Let's take a moment from the fuss,
And think of all their gifts to us:
A mother's love, a baby boy,
Peace and comfort, love and joy.

For he was horn for everyone,
His destiny hard, as God's own Son.

Copyright © Bryanna Williams

Details | Ballad | |

Receiving The Lord And Sharing His Word 2

Stumbling I've seen the price,
Of not answering the call,
In touch with the Holy Spirit,
I've seen the love within us all,

I have been in the company,
Of the one who brushed sin away,
He is beautiful, loving and kind,
He asked me if I'd like to shape clay,

Now to this day I have studied,
I have shared in great fellowship,
I have tried to capture the truth,
Praying and fasting in loving worship,

And lessons I learn and share,
Combined with the life I have led,
I hitched over twenty thousand miles,
And people around the world I've met,

I have worked in ivory towers,
Had a radio show across the land,
But I have also been a laborer,
Who worked until I could hardly stand,

Trained in real estate regulations,
Insurance and securities rules too,
But I've also been a garbage man,
And begged for my dinner a time or two,

The blessings of this up and down life,
Where I've been up and down so many times,
I now know the benefits of this strife,
It's helped me understand my crimes,

Those times so full of arrogance,
Where I hurt those who I hardly knew,
But even worse were the sad times,
When I hurt those I professed love to,

I was weak and tired but I tried to stand,
Not worthy but the Lord gave me power,
When I followed his simple loving way,
Then Holy blessings were like a shower,

The more I reach to understand,
What the Lord would have me do,
And to answer the call of the Lord,
I am always led right back to you,

I am not sure what I can share,
For I've seen the world good and bad,
And all people need to be spared,
To be blessed with all they need to have,

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On

Details | Ballad | |

I'm Free

God, I've questioned you so often On this journey we've been through... You've proven to me ore and ore, To just put my trust in you. I hear your gentle whisper Telling me so many things, Oh the joy beyond belief Just knowing you does bring. You've told me that I'm free, From condemnation here, And that with you I walk in wisdom And can take it anywhere. To use all for your glory, That you have blessed me with, For it is not my own, You have let me borrow it. Would I love the souls, You have placed upon my way? Would I share your glory, Each and every day? Would I come to realize, How real to me you are? Not some silent spirit, Somewhere among the stars. You're right here in my heart, You're in my husband's eyes, You're everywhere I look, You choose not to disguise. Oh Lord, my soul is singing, Your peace and love it holds, I pray that everyone I meet Takes one look at me and knows; That mighty is my loving God, Who wants good things for me, And through His grace and Mercy, My soul He has set free!

Copyright © Pokey Lanford

Details | Ballad | |

AWAY FROM TEMPTATION

I want money and richness
I want praises and loveliness
I want power and authority
I want prestige and popularity

I want all
I want all
I want all

Temptation is in everywhere
Greediness comes anywhere
God talks and speaks
God tests and warns peak

Falling - into, one must runaway
Giving - up, a no way too
Don't be tempted, says our God
For sins and faults makes me sad

Stay strong, you will last
Hold on, God is steadfast
Pray fervently, you must
To Him, all things you cast

by: olive_eloi
10:45am
01/20/2014

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try not be tempt..
all while don't attempt..
No one sure an exempt

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Details | Ballad | |

Receiving The Lord And Sharing His Word 4

You are what the Lord wants most,
Forget your past sins and start anew,
Remember that Grace is forgiveness,
And your faith in His grace will save you,

Good fruit will naturally flow,
Once the Lord has you upon the path,
And all of the seeds of faith you sow,
Will give others what you now have,

Your life will be filled with the light,
And this is the thing we must all share,
For in knowing we are wretches saved,
You can help others to be spared,

Once you find yourself on the path,
And temptation bothers you no more,
There is more work to do in your mission,
Until brotherly kindness becomes yours,

And there are gifts so glorious,
Which come to those sanctified,
Those practiced in the faithful walk,
To be used so the Lord is glorified,

But life gets us so caught up,
We may be saved but we may forget to play our part,
Forgetting reasons we have been given these gifts,
For we should always shine with all the love in our hearts.

We need to each be a road to the Lord's path,
We need to each always glorify our Lord,
We need to remember that being Christian,
Means we should be rejoicing in our reward,

For being Chirstian, doesn't mean,
That I am better than anyone else,
It only means that I find I stumble,
And I need the Lord's blessed help,

Finding the Lord did not make me,
A better man than anyone I know,
Rather it has made me understand,
How what I've done brought me low,

Receiving the Lord and sharing his word,
This is just a natural reaction,
One minute I am a man trapped by his sin,
And then a glorious thing happened,

I was forgiven all of my trespasses,
I then felt the rush of the spirit,
And then came a whisper so quiet,
So quiet, you could hardly hear it,

It told me the price of this gift,
Was to follow where it would guide,
To simply live a life of love,
And by the commandments abide.

Michael Wilson

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On

Details | Ballad | |

Einherjar

 
Another harsh Winter we must face It Matters not, no one can escape Fate Not Even The Gods With Bravery we shall Stand Strong In Care we shall advance onto Vigrid Fenrir Will Lay dead By Dawn's Perch Trim Your Nails, to Prevent Naglfar It's time to suit up; We Are The Einherjar Protector's of Ragnorak The Army of The Gods The Lovers of Valhalla All of Midgard will sing Of our triumph and their Defeat Sadly all will come, In a twinkling To An Utter End Madi, Magni, Sons of Thor Balder, Hod, Residence of Hel Lif, Lifthasir, of Yggdrasil Do us well Remembrance of our noble deeds Is all well enough Sing the Song We Are The Einherjar

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Ballad | |

Good Ol'e Hard Garlic salimi and Dried prune Religion

"Dearly beloved, "We are gathered here today to witness,
The wickedness of these times."
"Blessed", fortunately, its ending soon."
To radio stations phone-it.
"Wait!, No!, Next month.
"Taking the kiddies fishing."
"Perhaps we should postpone it."
"Reminds me, of an ole story.
"My, dear neighbor, now long past away."
"Bought a two-thousand watt light bulb."
"Used it to clean the lint from his toe nail."
"Then handed it over to me."
"Which item?", he asks.
"The lint or the bulb?"
"That's for you to decide."
"For extra credit, predict when the bulb burns out."
How the truth sometimes hurts.
For he loves us, and we love Him.
Faithfully digesting a breakfast sermon
Hard garlic salami, and dried prunes.
Oh , dear Paul.
Why was Moses punished?
He loves us.
In spite of our gas masks.
Even blesses our vents.
Just look at me.
I,m sure we meet before.
I,m wearing the inspector Klusoe badge.
Hiding near the back row.
Wearing an "Eddie Haskell", smile.
No mask , though, I,m tough.
I sure would like to tattle, on that darn kid.
Carefully rolling his perfect round gum wad.
Leaving it at the front door.
Tattle on that old fogy.
Hiding a re-cycled stogy.
Near the front bush.
About anybody unannounced,
Can bounce-in, these days!
Hard-core corporate sinners.
Hard working, making this world better?
With what thanks?
To greet the other side in hell?
If we don,t get to them.
Perhaps us as well.
Without Grace.
Sure would like to tattle,
On those arriving at the last minute.
Budgeting time, to edit a grocery list.
Tattle?, to Who?
Tattle on ladies, so easily upset.
If the closing clock, past noon strikes.
They must sell powerfully minted cookies.
Serving such a needed feast.
Considering whats for  breakfast.
Dear Jesus, can you explain?
Why you cursed the fig branch?
So Our sports fans can understand?
Boy would I ever like to tattle,
On that little, freckled faced girl.
Sneaking in her kitten.
Us listening, to penetrating competitive "Meows."
"We are the cats meow."
"Not hippo-critters."
So please join Us.
123 altogether sing.
"We love Him."
"We love them."
They love Us."
"Love"," one-another."
Sounds absolutely crazy, doesn't it?










Copyright © Oliver Krier

Details | Ballad | |

Detoured Dreams

I always thought of heaven,
as a warm, New England Fall day. 
The leaves were shining brighter
than the street post lamps at midnight. 
I’m cruising along the highway. 

Passing scenic pastures, tiny plazas and singing-
perhaps we are all just standing
on the great shoulders
of the men and women who were before us?
Everything that was -is 
fortunately apart of today.  

And I write-
because it relieves my pain. 
I create
because it’s nice to remember how to love.
Am I therefore less worthy, 
if I one day choose to make money, 
off my lovely creations?

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
Legend has it at one time, 
that’s what he wanted out of life.

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
What if someone had embraced this passion, this skill?
He could have sipped wine, 
painted on blank canvases,
and basketed in reflection of the moon.

He could have
Made love, 
and wrote songs, 
and Praised God, 
for the fortune of being able to dream. 
 
Instead, 
He abandoned his love for creation,
His love of art, 
praised only the devil
and became crazed with hate,  
millions were slaughtered, 
millions had to pay the price.
How tragic can life be?  

But now, 
I’m Passing through scenic pastures, tiny plazas and singing-
perhaps we are all just standing
on the great shoulders
of the men and women who were before us? 
Everything that was -is 
unfortunately apart of today.  

we never know just how much
shutting down one little, tiny, persons dream
can effect so many other people’s dreams.
and the generations to come. 

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
 would it have spared us some?

Copyright © Katelyn Dobbs

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A Poor Woman's Ballad

a poor woman's ballad, told in her p.o.v


I ain't got a dime in nobody's bank
...and I ain't got...just to be quite frank
I ain't got a paycheck from nobody's job
I aint got nothing...luckily, I don't go out and rob
I ain't got a car from nobody's lot
...and I ain't got...to be wasting in nobody's slot
I ain't got a house on nobody's land
I ain't got a pot to piss in, sometimes I pee in a can
I ain't got no jewelry from nobody's store
I ain't got it no more, cause they caught me at the door
I ain't got a stove to be cooking nobody's food
...and I ain't got a refridgerator to be keeping jack...cool
I ain't got the strength to be giving nobody a hand
...and I damn sholl' don't have a bed to be keeping nobody's man
I ain't got no butter to put with this toast and I ain't got no spread to put with this bread
...so therefore, I ain't got no food to be keeping nobody fed
I ain't got no cash to be letting nobody borrow a dub(20 dlrs)
...and I ain't got no money to be getting in nobody's club
I ain't got no fancy clothes, high-tech whatcha- ma- call-its or no shoes made by nobody...
but I do have a couple of things, thanks to somebody
you see...I ain't got no riches that could be considered wealth
but I went to the doctor yesterday, he told me I was in good health
I ain't got nothing really to be giving, but I woke up this morning...so therefore I am living
I ain't wearing no designer dress, but somehow, I ain't even stressed
I ain't got  no diamonds hanging down my chest
...but I'm good...cause somebody keep me alive...so therefore I am blessed

Copyright © Natalie Braddy