If Dullness Be Your Plunder

63. If Dullness Be Your Plunder Speech be silence gone amiss But if speech be ne'er to be. Choose words with some conviction Lest you dare to weary me. Tell a story worth remembering... Peak my interest with a plot. Dazzle me with its eccentricities... Leave me speechless on the spot. But if dullness be your plunder And prattle the order of the day. Cease with your banality... Just turn and walk away. The End 64. Sincere Apologies Sincere apologies to all concerned... For the burdens left behind. Know this true... I shan't return To plague impeccant Minds. There was utter folly to my madness That masked a blackened heart. I trafficked in misery and sadness To tear this world Apart. Has there ever been upon this Earth A man more pitiful than I? Letting the winds of chaos fester While fear and trepidation Chance collide. That a mother should have given voice To one so barnacled with shame... As minions of the underworld rejoice At the mere cackle of my Name. But at this hour, striving for exemption Knowing faith be lost... I take a wild stab at redemption Hoping to offset some future Cost. My regrets lie heaped and stacked... Tis a weight I cannot bear. Thus I perish with one last noble act To seek forgiveness in your Prayers. I've made the Earth a better place By choosing not to be... Trusting Heaven opens up a space For one as cursed as Me. Please accept this late confession as I take my final breath. As I ponder now the question... Is there mercy after death? Thus... When light has seen the end of day And all is well with thee. Take just a moment to convey Some blessed thought of Me. The End 65. The Hourglass The night be well upon me... The hourglass has had its run. The graveyard beckons hither... I feel the setting of my sun. Death holds no consternation... I am well on sacred ground. And the hourglass I mentioned... Well... I'll just turn it upside down. 66. Live By The Sword... Religion beacons many forms... Not just those who seek the cross. Some climb majestic mountains While others search for what is lost. Some hope to find the burning bush... Others claim the soul divine. There are those who cheer the wrath of God To keep the dregs in line. But the worst of all religions... The one to fill my soul with dread. Is the hate and vile malevolence That those on Twitter spread. They menacingly worship at an alter Proliferating a stench of scabbed flesh... They rip and tear their neighbors To feed demons in the press. How does one who walks this Earth Come to such a sorry state? The only thing that comes to mind... They must margin from their hate. If hate's the currency of their passion... Then false prophets must collide. Thus when Twitter deems them expendable... They'll have nowhere left to hide. The End