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![Image for the poem Rain](/images/uploads/poemimages/423229.jpg?1624732993)
Rain
To thy that cast the first stone
Place of paradise, where redemption of fallen grace shall roam
Hell, on earth as you could, feel, see
No other place that accommodates such sinful needs
The seven deadly sins, oh yes, they’re real
As an Angel, my skin tattered as lashes I feel
Satan is within the mind, flames igniting the destructive ruins of thy, soul, heart
Right and Wrong, God’s true purpose given from the beginning of time in its natural state of art
Angels, yes, we see, bow under grace, for the sins of you and thee
Roaming unaware from sunrise to sunset spreading God’s Heavenly creed
Yet, Revelations gives you the seven seals, seven churches, and the pale horse
Death and destruction, cast of the wicked, not from the life you lead, but the doctrine of the heart’s choice
Now when you say Chant For The Horned Beast
The cries from ancestral cotton fields, linage denigration, mass killings, its glorious fame of feast
The Heavens, where God’s laws preaches, Pearly Gates, the fiery eyes will never come to see
Heaven and Hell are found within the heart, a man, standing in a pulpit preaching the way to salvation
One hundred and forty-four souls’ entrance, the others reincarnated to an ungodly world of mind wandering and trepidation
God seeks thy heart without a spot or a wrinkle
Your fate leaves the mind in waiting, which no one knows, it’s just that simple
Our Heavenly Father’s forty days and forty nights for earth’s deadly sins
Replaced with a rainbow, a new path to begin
A child’s boots jumping with laughter within its depth
A calming effect throughout the night as we slept
A tree’s saturated promise to replenish the heart, mind, spirit and the soul of its blossoming roots
Picking from the divinity of its fruits
A blessing to soak the earth during its emotional drought of life
Famine, thirst for water, the absence feeling like a cut from a knife
A mask effect blending with emotional tears sliding down the world’s cheeks
How long does the carnage of sins suffer when its way past generations, days, months, weeks
Bipartisan entities of the wretched and the meek praying on their knees
Hiding the heart’s pain behind liquefied streams
Most can’t shout, curse, or even scream
Raindrops keep falling on human’s head
Drowning us in its puddles, feet glued, our suffering existence like the weight of lead
Pelting against the umbrella of Mother Nature, which shields the unkind elements, only manifesting rift
Tongue stuck out, a taste of gloom and doom formed within the clouds feeling the wrath of its raining strife
Life, death dealt like Russian Roulette
No comfort ordained beyond a baby’s bassinette
Shivers from our promised bearings getting ignored
No way out, but in a pine box, then lowered in dirt, in remembrance our creation eternally stored
Prisoners in our own homes looking up to the Heavens for some form of relief
Drug induced zombies, pulling their hair out, waiting in vain for miracles to happen while gritting their teeth
Our fragile souls are getting drenched, soaked, filmed of its blood, guts, and glory, chatted, seen on the internet, or celebrated in a text
Civilization’s emotions no longer being met, come on God, where you at
Heart, minds, souls caught by a hook trapped inside earth’s mental net
Stinking raindrops from the absence of Your mercy not being felt
Place of paradise, where redemption of fallen grace shall roam
Hell, on earth as you could, feel, see
No other place that accommodates such sinful needs
The seven deadly sins, oh yes, they’re real
As an Angel, my skin tattered as lashes I feel
Satan is within the mind, flames igniting the destructive ruins of thy, soul, heart
Right and Wrong, God’s true purpose given from the beginning of time in its natural state of art
Angels, yes, we see, bow under grace, for the sins of you and thee
Roaming unaware from sunrise to sunset spreading God’s Heavenly creed
Yet, Revelations gives you the seven seals, seven churches, and the pale horse
Death and destruction, cast of the wicked, not from the life you lead, but the doctrine of the heart’s choice
Now when you say Chant For The Horned Beast
The cries from ancestral cotton fields, linage denigration, mass killings, its glorious fame of feast
The Heavens, where God’s laws preaches, Pearly Gates, the fiery eyes will never come to see
Heaven and Hell are found within the heart, a man, standing in a pulpit preaching the way to salvation
One hundred and forty-four souls’ entrance, the others reincarnated to an ungodly world of mind wandering and trepidation
God seeks thy heart without a spot or a wrinkle
Your fate leaves the mind in waiting, which no one knows, it’s just that simple
Our Heavenly Father’s forty days and forty nights for earth’s deadly sins
Replaced with a rainbow, a new path to begin
A child’s boots jumping with laughter within its depth
A calming effect throughout the night as we slept
A tree’s saturated promise to replenish the heart, mind, spirit and the soul of its blossoming roots
Picking from the divinity of its fruits
A blessing to soak the earth during its emotional drought of life
Famine, thirst for water, the absence feeling like a cut from a knife
A mask effect blending with emotional tears sliding down the world’s cheeks
How long does the carnage of sins suffer when its way past generations, days, months, weeks
Bipartisan entities of the wretched and the meek praying on their knees
Hiding the heart’s pain behind liquefied streams
Most can’t shout, curse, or even scream
Raindrops keep falling on human’s head
Drowning us in its puddles, feet glued, our suffering existence like the weight of lead
Pelting against the umbrella of Mother Nature, which shields the unkind elements, only manifesting rift
Tongue stuck out, a taste of gloom and doom formed within the clouds feeling the wrath of its raining strife
Life, death dealt like Russian Roulette
No comfort ordained beyond a baby’s bassinette
Shivers from our promised bearings getting ignored
No way out, but in a pine box, then lowered in dirt, in remembrance our creation eternally stored
Prisoners in our own homes looking up to the Heavens for some form of relief
Drug induced zombies, pulling their hair out, waiting in vain for miracles to happen while gritting their teeth
Our fragile souls are getting drenched, soaked, filmed of its blood, guts, and glory, chatted, seen on the internet, or celebrated in a text
Civilization’s emotions no longer being met, come on God, where you at
Heart, minds, souls caught by a hook trapped inside earth’s mental net
Stinking raindrops from the absence of Your mercy not being felt
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