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Johny Smith Poem
I cry out
To the life I share.
Can we be without
A common prayer?
Within our nature
Flaws pervade.
They make us similar;
A bond is made.
Anger, jealousy, pride;
Denizens of Hell
Sins we have to hide
By you and I are felt.
Into myself, I swim
Unknowingly in company.
Instinct covered by whim
Sinking into eternity.
A statistic, picked apart
Answers more than its question.
Penetrating a single heart
Opens a world of comprehension.
In unity, we live together
The same mind, the same strife.
Seamlessly bound forever
By these common threads of life.
Copyright © Johny Smith | Year Posted 2009
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Johny Smith Poem
Vipers climb these walls;
These walls, eternally tall.
Lining these walls, crannies and nooks;
Reviving shelters to which these vipers look.
Just below these shelters, a moss of deep green
The top edges glow a red sheen.
Blue wind blows from within
Cooling the vipers' thinning skin.
Through the day, through the night
These vipers fight a tireless fight.
Is there a purpose, a reason?
These vipers give their short season?
Relief beckons from below, a lie.
Caught for a moment, these vipers raise their eyes.
Suddenly, these vipers see cracks
From which flames gush to attack.
These vipers peel off the wall,
Helplessly despairing the Fall.
Is there a purpose, a reason?
Yes; they have been given a Son.
Copyright © Johny Smith | Year Posted 2009
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Johny Smith Poem
Unyielding purity, capable wonder, confident action,
Innocent query, unknowing wisdom, entitled arrogance.
An amiable nature, providing possibility.
A generous future, granting potency.
The quagmires of the mind are rendered powerless;
Evils of the world go unaccomplished.
Corruption is purified; The flame of sin is extinguished.
View the extent of this power.
However just, however good this power,
It is not singularly immortal.
Its champions, however valiant, however effective,
Are extinguished, one by one.
Yet are distinguished, too, one by one.
Thus, immortality is reached.
Leaving its own legacy, it replenishes itself.
And so this power is unshakable and immortal;
The power of youth.
Copyright © Johny Smith | Year Posted 2009
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Johny Smith Poem
Nature holds me in its sway;
Paul promises to set me free.
I choose the way,
Or does the way choose me?
Over Truth's door watches Mediocrity,
Before its throne sits Paradox.
Truth's sentinels stand immortally.
For now, I am inexorably forced to concede
Their unwavering power over me.
Does it matter?
Why do I think about these things?
Meaning is abused,
Perceived as a limit.
Reality is rendered abstract;
A void.
So does Truth escape my grasp;
Will its guardians fade?
And so persists my wandering mind,
Looking forward, backward, side to side
So I can pierce the iron veil
And over Truth prevail.
Copyright © Johny Smith | Year Posted 2009
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