Walking up a steeply-ancient cobblestreet, old witchwomen observe
The young man passing, sweating blood.
He has his cross to bear,
His words to justify,
Betraded for silver
His friends to forgive,
His life to forget.
A tangle of barbthorns is his armour;
He rules over death:
Looks well in a tomb!
Vinegar is his wine,
Children are his mentors,
Criminals are his company
His life was led according to his favourite adage:
"Do unto others are you would like them to do unto you".
Coven
Dancing in the dead of night,
Howling at the moon,
Calling to Beelzebub,
Hoping he'll be there soon.
Waiting for the ignoble Beast
To come with his hounds of Hell;
Preparing for him a virgin feast,
Awaiting the sound of Satan's bell.
Spinning into a frenzied state,
Sweating blood before the dawn,
Each one offering to be his mate;
The crucible of the Devil's spawn.
But soon the sun begins to rise,
And no appearance has he made;
They wipe the tears from out their eyes,
And with sorrow leave the sheltered glade.
To spend the lonely hours of day
Quietly pursuing their daily chore,
Keeping the hellish hounds at bay
'Till they return to the glade once more.
To once again repeat the rite,
And call forth the Creature foul;
Twirling through the dark of night,
Bemoaning their fate, to the moon they howl.
But he does not come, this accursed slime,
To take to bed his earthly wench;
They merely spend this wasted time
Letting their minds rot in the stench.
The blessed sun will rise anew,
And their efforts will have been in vain--
But somewhere in a church's pew,
A crippled man will walk again.
I am tired of this world,
this place,
people,
the way they laugh at love
their eyes are sweating blood
their hands are like some knife,
ready to cut down,
the warmth between two,
the care,
the love,
two hands together
and souls,
that merged into one,.
The Silence of Sound
Prostitute walks lonely streets alone, in the early hours
just to feel hope, in a yellow sunrise in... silence
Couple fighting through the night, paying no attention to the little girl
hiding in the closet, holding her hands to her ears in... silence
Little boy on a bench, terrified of another school day of being bullied
for now, he wishes this day would be over in..silence
He walks the garden, sweating blood, as his life is about to end
he's giving up his life, so other's can be free, prays in...silence
As the refugees flee for freedom in overcrowded boats to small
lifeless bodies fill the ocean's edge. We held our breath in...silence
They're all marched for peace and intolerance, till the familiar sound
of gunshots sent people running to hide in...silence
In silence we all just stood by,
Silently we did nothing,
Listening for the sound!
Of... silence
© Jerry L. Heldman, 13 days ago
Fear is not real
except inside your head
that doesn't matter
when you're dead
Danger, however
that may sound
is to be revered
if you want to stick around
So fear matters not
but danger does
when you're sweating blood
and on a buzz
exploitation continues
the thieves are ever at it
the heroes have departed
leaving behind the weaklings to be exploited
Here’s a worker sweating blood
while the eating homo-chewing dance frenzy
the tamed enslaved beings roam and wander
but only in the marked electrofenced domain
Aspirations limited,
Horizons restricted,
everyday eking
everyday fleecing
poverty adorns the wretched men and women
sentenced to rot in want and need
while the eating thieves wallow in intimacy
Whilst poor Jones stands at the door
guarding the fallen grumps of the dozing boss
billionaire feeds off his work and despair.
When He was in the garden
sweating blood was I one drip on
His brow or was I the cause?
the cause of all misery
when he was condemned or
was it just hate?
just hate undermining
all His works or
was it His plan?
His plan to save us
Save us from ourselves
by taking the burden?
the burden of the fall
Adam had caused
lingers here now?
here now should we praise Him
by loving our neighbor
and not condemn
not condemn our neighbor
or go against love
so be still and know …
Running,panting,sweating blood,
my chests a river and a bleeding flood.
Cursing,ripping, this beating heart,
how it hates to be torn apart.
The racing drum within my chest,
calls to halt this violent test.
Lungs are black,and engine broke,
no more strength is left to yoke.
Simply now there was a pause,
hold your tongue and find the cause.
My fault alone,by my own hand,
I broke apart this one man band.
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