Long Deadly sins Poems
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It's not the actual circumcision of man that one needs
for you have been circumcised through Christ from sinful deeds
let no one take you captive with hollow and deceptive thoughts
don't depend on the human condition and the principles the world has taught
let The Holy Spirit inside you continually dwell
be baptized with the blood of Christ and drink from the Living Well
let God cancel your sins and nail them to the cross
become a new creation in Christ, tell the past to get lost
like the phoenix that rises up from the ashes of destruction
let your ashes of sin be shed, become a Godly reconstruction
God is most supreme, He is The Creator
He is our Father and spiritual generator
through the death and resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ
we have all been forgiven of sin and offered eternal life
since we've died with Christ to the basic principles of the world's laws
yet we still belong to It and must obey them even though they're flawed
put to death whatever belongs to the nature of an earthly mind
remove the seven deadly sins from your life and rely on God's Kind
do not lie, do not slander, let no foul language fall from your lips
as a new creation in Christ you now have passage on that heaven-bound ship
forgive as The Lord forgave you, be bound with love and peace in unity
let the grace and mercy of Christ rule in you with a perfect harmony
and whatever you do, be It In either word or deed
do It In Jesus' name and It will come to seed
praise, pray and rejoice in God again, again and again
be thankful He's a God of second chances, who'll forgive you of your sins
Ankles
“Ankles.” Noted, Master Satan.
Yes. Ankles. I saw beautiful ankles.
“Where?” In Wembley. On the street.
“What ankles?” What kind of ankles?
She wasn’t European or an English lady.
“So?” I think she came from the east. From far.
What did this woman look like?
Well dressed. White clothing. Snow-white.
Tall and slender. Short jacket. Indian style trousers
And high heels. Age around thirty. Nice face.
The Pharaoh’s Daughter. But something was interesting.
“What?” The time. I saw her when I entered the shop.
Walked in front of the shop. Slowly. Watched.
I bought a big bottle of cider. Then I talked to the shop assistant.
He is my brother. An indian guy. After shopping, I crossed the road.
Then I arrived at the corner. She crossed the road before me at the corner.
“She waited for you.” Yes. I think. Because I talked in the shop for minutes.
Then she came in front of me. Walked. I saw her ankles. Her steps slowed down.
“I understand. What did you do later?” Wait. I want to find the answer from.
“Where from?”
From my Catholic Prayer Book. Text is in Hungarian. Wait. Just a minute.
Thank you for your patience.
From the Seven Deadly Sins: Lust.
“And?”
I touched my body with impure intent.
“Hmm. Why?”
I was blocked
From the ankles
It happened at
25. 08. 2025
Afternoon
In Wembley Park
If you laugh at anger and allow some pride,
You may not be quite the same person inside;
If you ignore a little greed, just to yourself,
And inspect sloth in worship as an act of self,
You’ll become lazy more often than you like,
Expecting no consequences, no laborious hike,
Back to work, concern and effortful interest,
Where you do your utmost to do your best.
If you pass over that extra chocolate drop,
And let your greed compensate for your flop,
To account for the sadness in your life and day,
Then you’ll only put on weight to dribble away;
If you shine on gluttonous outbursts as good,
You’ll only validate for your happiness, food,
Which can’t love you or elevate you into meaning,
Because it’s got no warmth, presence or feeling.
And if you have sex with too many friends, people,
You’ll never see them as sensitive and capable,
You’ll never relate to them as you could or should,
And sex will become purely physical, crude,
Which will make you jealous of others’ sex lives,
Envious of their relationships, hideouts and dives,
And anger will devour your mind to place and stake,
Everybody else as wrong, oh for goodness sake!
It's the pain laced cold reality check
crashing winds hurricane blowing
the tail end landing with news processed
Suffering human rights ignored pains
through prides green eyes
a legion filled with envy
money signs the pact
Your a joke monster of a devil
whom mocks and violates this earthly gift
who armed Isis
Or any other of these so called rebel groups
world terrorists are to blame bullies
for such deadly sins taking life's of your fathers sons
They will curse you
to hell and back forever
the damned armed
with the devils tools
destruction of humanity creeps closer
Crawling dark matter
from the dirty underworld
dead bones rise
scattering ash burns to dust
Blood of our brothers and sisters spill
upon grounds seeking peace
sins with their poisonous greed
Oil is now the dark matter reaping souls
without Divine mercy kills with hate
His judgement comes on the final day
they hide in the mountains of who they are
Claiming to be something
they are not humane
begs the question inside truth
World dominating powers invade
with bombs to dominate and destroy a world's grace
Doomsday is there no end
to your horrid need for suffering
Your games Satan faceless entity
hiding in the shadows
a snake turns against God's seals
without spine dark matter
Think human morals out seriously
They have gone upside down deciding fate
our future generations life children cry
in the drop of a hat inside core
Out of this world
tilting balance towards revelations
trial of life
we see answers unfolding
blinded no more by falseness
good against evil begins the battle
I believe in faith
a great source
holding power over hate
so my prayers are for peace
dove of an angel sings the joy
with love and understanding
the book of good conduct
God blesses all those afflicted deeply
sperantza voi chi entrate qui.
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here"
A story I must tell about an angel who fell.
One of the deadly sins, where the Devil always wins.
Lilith seduced his eyes, despite his manic cries,
stole his innocent mind and Lucifer's not blind,
for all the walls he'd built are now crumbling with guilt.
A moment of pleasure is now a deadly measure.
Satan's stolen his soul. as red eyed demons troll,
he's afraid to be found, because he knows he's hellbound.
There's no place he can hide with no halo left to guide.
He can hear regret yell at mental gates of hell.
Enticed by temptation, he pleads for redemption.
One moment of desire has left him burning in fire.
You can give up that nasty habit if you try.
Just think of all the things your money will buy.
Each one of those houses is a den of debauchery.
They are clip joints just out to get your money.
When you dump at the tables or feed the machines,
the end result is usually some egregious scenes.
If you win, consider it a loan at the time.
You will return to pay back every nickel and dime.
Being broke is where most adventures will lead.
The house takes advantage of the weakness called greed.
Greed is the deadliest of the seven deadly sins.
In the long run, only the house is the one who wins.
‘Nothing to do, they don’t need us.
Hell of a lot of busy work,
what are we doing sitting here ?‘
These are the twisted thoughts
that plague so many people
every day as they sit idle and fiddle;
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again;
We have a shortage of soul;
Restlessness is mischief in lazy hands;
No real motivation except
flash cash and micro dopamine hits;
Pulling up an app chasing fast money;
Honey, that slot machine has no value;
If anyone can get it without a grind?
There is something inside unsatisfied;
Each minute it continuously grows;
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again;
We have a shortage of soul;
Wealth can’t be based on economics,
you flourish when your spirit is full;
Not a thing you don’t work for
will give you purpose;
Easy will always leave you empty,
on the sofa with seven deadly sins;
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again;
We have a shortage of soul.
Today's headline: Mass vaccination in Africa begins in mid-2021
Wildfires do not pause for water hose, their seething pain not soothed by
a retard, life's full of
pose and repose when fairness reigns, otherwise
it's forfeited to vulgar lust.
The season's devil must vanquish
kindly, collectively, without murmuring prejudice, or it seizes upon
our wretched walls, taxing our profit,
the lofty humanity.
Gladly lay account to an unreality,
that Africa gets it first and the West last, can you imagine, they'll
likely nuke Africa to come out first, so the white ruling class of the world
can rejoice a heroic battle won with its golden-wiped, polished media bandits -- they are good for a swindle and a grief.
I want someone to rob the West of all their vaccines and dump them in Africa, so the slave continent can beat the old sorcery kitchen and escape its wilderness, let the scoundrels of the West hue and cry and speak of fairness and equality, scrabbling Africa's chestnut, their halls of power in moonlit gloom. The seven deadly sins of colonialism jump at us too late to stop the momentum, a brilliant revenge: pillage, slavery, settlement, indoctrination, coups and countercoups, and lies, history's full of them, and so is the ballad of the barefeet people's will to resist, every day is a good day to hang a colonialist by a Christmas tree.
World knows the seven deadly sins-
lust,gluttony,greed,sloth,wrath,envy,pride.
A woman basic need to understood and being
heard is more deadly a sin
which burn the mind and heart to ashes.
Even the pious man and lay man
has no difference when ridiculing
woman for her pain and emotions.
Has to smile beautifully and talk sweetly
though burning alive inside and out.
He is smart and great as he silenced
the mind and heart of a woman
through his deeds of love and care.
Dare she squeals,will labelled as
stubborn and arrogant.
She should wallow and cry in agony
and not let out and taunted as
always ruminating the past ,as it hurts the pride
and ego of a man,as it makes him
to see his own truth and hypocrisy.
Man has thousands of ways to escape
but her,none ,if she manages ,will
called a tough crack and a stone.
Woman is hard to understand says
the man,but did he ever care to listen
to her ..nahhh
lady ,thou speak,will be berated
by people whose flaws are projected
and imprinted on thou.
Shhhhhhhh....thy lips are kissed
by someone’s ‘I’ and throttled
by wind of promises.
This world is a grayeyard of woman’s
emotions ,desires,intellect etc and
sinner is thou,woman,
for letting thy mind and heart
waver in the wilderness and winds
of others wrong perceptions and
projections of one’s flaws.
So is it Right to be heard or
want to be heard..?
Say it Please....
Written on:12-07-2025
PS: This poem is not to hurt anyone,I apologise ,if it does.
This poem is majorly for everyone who wish to be heard and resonate wiht,though this is from
woman’s perspective.
Kindly share your thoughts and opinions.
I love her limpid, clear blue-eyes
and her long, yellow tresses;
wise, and with grace that never dies
or wavers, she blesses.
Behind those intelligent eyes,
she ponders, thinks, and listens;
as I surmise, she feels the rise
of saintliness that christens.
With golden tresses dressed in waves,
spooled, and weaved in sage;
she braves the loathing that enslaves,
assuaging enmity's rage.
Shrewd, wise, and just, she's tolerant,
patient, kind, and compassionate;
and eschews man's Pride, the giant
of deadly sins that's intemperate.
But her existence's all but undone,
for she's more abstract than real:—
that she's only fiction I bemoan,
for she's “la femme idéale.”