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Chris Tian Poem
A gut full of grease is a glutton for greed
A swirling cesspool of sinful man's seed
These men of corruption, a pitiful breed
They trust their own hearts, which deceives them indeed
Prey for the fallen and wicked to feed
Who whisper with promise to fill man's each need
They scoff at God's promise, those depraved will not heed
They mock every word in God's Book when they read
Rejecters of Truth, in which mankind is preed
They have no fear of Christ, Who shall judge every deed
He Who gives man the breath for his life to proceed
He alone, in strict justice, shall perfectly meed
He Who casts into hell, by His Word, whence decreed
He Whose anger, and fury, and wrath shall exceed
All the strength of His creatures, who must there ever dreed
He Who mocks, in derision, all the damned as they plead
He Who laughs as they weep and they wail to be freed
He Who kindles the fire that shall burn every weed
Reprobate beings shall become as a glede
The bread of the leaven He shall thoroughly knead
He Who bled as they jeered shall then jeer as they bleed
When He smites with His iron they'll remember the reed
They'll remember His cup, that accursed Ganymede
He forsaken of God that the veil should be screed
He Who endured that redemption succeed
He Who for sinners was made sin, to accede
For sin, and the Devil, and death to impede
The powers of darkness were forced to recede
As did that legion of swine once stampede
When Jesus returns riding 'pon a white steed
Armies of angels and saints shall He lead
Open your ears and your eyes and take heed
Do not let your heart be a stone when you read
The Word became flesh, as the God-Head decreed
Son of God, Son of man, incorruptible Seed
A Savior for every sinner in need
Son of man, in the flesh, come to weep and to bleed
Son of God, Bread from heaven, to heal and to feed
Christ Jesus, the Son, that He might intercede
To reconcile God with the chosen to be freed
He Who the Son frees shall be free indeed
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
My Song-
O' LORD, You are my Song.
Your Name is Awesome! Glory!
To You, God, I belong.
You wrote me in Your story.
My Father-
My Father is so good.
I like to call Him Dad.
He told me that I should.
He said it makes Him glad.
You Give-
You give my heart to praise.
You give me love for prayer.
You give me all my days.
You give each breath of air.
I Will Thank You-
I will thank You in the dark.
I will thank You for the night.
I will thank You for the spark.
I will thank You in the light.
You Will Keep Me-
You will keep me when I stand.
You will keep me when I fall.
You will keep me in Your hand.
You will keep me through it all.
My Savior and Great God-
My Savior and great God above, Who reignest upon high,
the earth is but Your footstool; You clothe Yourself with sky;
and in the clouds You shall return; the twinkling of an eye.
Then all Your saints shall soar to meet, and with, You ever fly.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2015
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Chris Tian Poem
Let your gaze be turned upon my fair and silken skin
Look into my wandering eyes that flatter simple men
See my lips are pouty smeared with lipstick and deceit
Let me know how beautiful I look to feed conceit
Oh God! I need attention, and I need it every day
If you seem to like my looks enough, we might just play
Send to me a message that shall cause my lust to burn
Let me see your filthy mind, I'll show you mine in turn
Nothing quite like fornication warms my wicked heart
Let us meet and join our flesh to tear our souls apart
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
We all are lying hypocrites. Our lives are staged to flaunt and bow.
We all are actors; hypnotizing masses, as we play our parts.
We all are lifeless, spiritually. Our gods? All dead! Meat! Golden cow.
We all are, through and through, corrupt. Depraved affections rein our hearts.
We all are creatures, made to serve: a master makes his own obey.
We all, by nature, fallen man, are willing slaves. We beg to sin.
We all are wicked; seed of Satan, walking in our father's way.
We all are traitors. Enmity! At war with Christ! We cannot win!
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2015
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Chris Tian Poem
O' Lucifer, thou wast the bright and shining Star
Archangel of the highest heaven
Thou wast the seal and sum perfection
Thy wisdom and thy beauties glory
Adorned with every precious stone
The workmanship of thy music
Wast prepared at thy creation
Thou anointed Cherub who covers
Established in thy seat of honor
Upon the holy mount of God
Walking to and fro
Through the midst of fiery stones
Thou wast perfect in thy ways
From the day thou wast created
Til iniquity was found in thee
Thy violence and profanity
Thy sin of vanity
As thy heart was lifted up in pride
Because thou lovest thine own self
Thy wisdom wast corrupted
For the sake of thine own splendor
How art thou fallen!
O' Lucifer!
Thou son of the morning!
Cast to the ground
Where fire shall devour
Devouring fire from thy midst
Thou art become as man
Dust and ashes
Thou art astonishment
Terror and horror
Thou shalt be no more
Forever.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
Scarlet woman rides the Beast,
whose star ariseth in the east;
thou wilt make a man thy feast.
Smeared with lies, thy pan is greased;
that first is most and last is least.
You stretch your sagging withered arms,
and draw the dead with deathly charms.
O' thou wretched boney hag,
whose garment is a filthy rag.
Corrupt within and all without.
Thy legs are full of gruesome gout.
Thy skin is scabbed, and open sores.
Thy make-up cakes upon thy pores.
Thy mouth, in smile, is nought but rot.
Upon thy hands, the leper's spot.
The stench of carcass in thy bowels.
Thy refuse clings upon thy towels.
You stretch your sagging withered arms,
And draw the dead with deathly charms.
They come to you, their mother dear,
and let you whisper in their ear.
You tell them what they want to hear.
You never caused a soul to fear,
that Christ may very soon appear.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
While walking through a field one day, and singing as I went,
I was praising God for mercy in the Son that He had sent.
Then I stepped upon a thorn, and in my pain I quit my praise.
As my mouth was filled with cursing, and my heart with rage ablaze.
Then I stumbled for the thorn still sunk into my throbbing heel,
and I scraped my hands and knees; this causing me more pain to feel.
As the swearing, the profanity, kept spewing from my lip,
I could not contain my anger or regain a solid grip.
Nearby, there perched a little bird upon a barbed wire fence.
Twas watching with delight to see me losing all my sense.
For earlier he'd heard my song and thought it such a joke;
he, laughing at my madness, laughed so hard it made him choke.
He then took flight from place to place, that all should come to know
about this man who sang of grace, but came to sudden woe.
He published, far and wide, what he had seen and what he'd heard.
O' christian, when you sin be sure to think about this bird.
The little bird who lands upon an ear to tell the tale
of man redeemed who lives the same as those who've gone to hell.
That little bird will never understand the Savior's love
if saints below forget to praise their Maker up above.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2015
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Chris Tian Poem
I twist my speech to seem, and be, as white and spotless bone.
Silence 'flecting, like a mirror, on the wall to show
man, so hypocrite and liar. This is who we are.
Man! The curse of sin has brought you far,
into the pits of lusting pyre. Engulf our spirit's flame.
Set afire desire for spit and skin,
bitter sweat, blood, and orifices.
The dawning of Aquarius. The sun has set on Pices.
This crooked generation, like as Sodom and Gomorrah.
As that faithful Lot, I am, and live amongst the tares.
My neighbors live and speak as I, when I can find no faith.
I guilty of the same as they, the Scripture saith.
I e'er be found in heaven... it be not that I am good.
Nor can I love God enough to trust Him as I should.
My own love and faith is full of fault and fear.
My faults and fears, my sin, is loud and clear.
If Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
impute not Life, a man is lost.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
The ancient hieroglyphics, carvings in the stones
Monuments of idol, tombs to house the bones
Navel of the world, ley across the lands
Pyramids on parallel, built upon the sands
Fiery winged serpents, descending from the sky
To bring the gift of knowledge, hid within the Eye
Of Horus, son of Isis-Sirius the star
Isis known through gnosis, Babylon, Ishtar
Incest wife and sister, to dead and risen god
Osiris, Orion, Babylon, Nimrod
These drink the blood of prophets and eat the flesh of kings
They counterfeit the Trinity and teach unholy things
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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Chris Tian Poem
Into the eyes of infants; may we gaze there and find innocence?
My Bible tells me, "No! Not so." As they are guilty of offence.
That sin of Adam, passed along to all born of his cursed seed;
the law of imputation. Tis the justice of the LORD decreed.
First Adam, more than just a man; he, for all mankind, stood in their stead.
This law of first republic... declares first man our legal head.
He, bound within a covenant, of works, to trust and to obey
each Word of God, his Maker; He Who formed him from the clay.
Those given representative, they all of his posterity,
must also reap the just reward of Adam's choice about a tree.
Had he chosen goodness, to abstain from that denied,
had he grace contented rather than a lustful pride,
then he, as well as all his seed, receive eternal blessings' bliss.
Instead he chose to let his heart give heed to Serpent's hiss.
Wherefore he pressed his lips and sealed betrayal with a kiss.
Who so wise can fathom why a will, so free as this,
would e'er forsake his Maker, Whom he spoke with face to Face?
Why betray his blessed LORD; forsake His good and grace?
Who so wise can fathom why a will so free from sin,
would freely choose the wrath of God, and all mankind ruin?
Suppose? Who knows?
To none God owes
His gift of grace.
He freely shows
this grace to those
He freely chose.
His Spirit goes
as Wind that blows,
as pure and living
Water flows,
as warming Ray
of Son-Light glows.
The promised Seed
takes root and grows.
Whence beauties bloom
from Sharon's Rose.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
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