Healing Begins

To all those who mourn,

 To the broken of heart,

And to those who think all happiness from their life is torn,

Do not let hope part.

Those who weep will laugh again

This blanket of despair will fall away

 The demons you fear will be slain

And you will awaken to a new day.

 

The Foundations of this Government

                Freedom is not a right; it is a gift, one that most Americans take for granted as much as they do life. Free speech is not a right; it is merely a result of a healthy government who has set its foundations in God. But what happens if the foundation, the very cornerstone of that government becomes rejected? What happens when our leaders begin to chisel away those little things they don’t like, thinking the foundation is strong enough to endure a few “adjustments,” but they only find more things to get rid of. Americans should not be surprised, when they look back, to find that many of the gifts that they call rights are ever so slowly fading away, so slowly you hardly notice the changes until it is too late. All because some people decided it was too offensive to pray in school, that the greeting “merry Christmas” should be replaced with “happy holidays.” As America slowly becomes an atheistic or “all Inclusive” country, do not be surprised that our government is starting to crumble, for the foundation of it is being taken away, and how can something stand without it’s foundations?

Passing Away

Faint echoing cries, lonely goodbyes.

Shining tears that are shed, the heart that mourns has bled.

Hope is gone with what which is dead, lying lifeless on the hard cold bed.

But blossoms still bloom, hope will awaken soon.

In the heart of one’s soul, love will have taken its toll.

The Moment of Truth

“Do you believe in God?” A girl asks her in a steely cold voice. The cold metal of a gun presses against Christine’s forehead. She had seen what had happened to the last person they had asked, he was laying in a pool of blood with lifeless eyes. She knew that would be her next if she said yes, but what else could she say, she couldn’t lie. She closes her eyes, letting the darkness envelop her thoughts, calming the screaming voice in her head. ‘I will not deny you, my Lord.’ She prays silently. She feels an indescribable peace wash over her; she knows what she must do. “Well!?” the girl with the gun nearly screams. Christine slowly opens her eyes and looks straight into the face of her murderer, unblinking. “Yes! He is my Lord and he sent his Son to die for me and-” She never finishes her sentence; the gun shot rings through the school hallways. The girl, her blue eyes lifeless, falls to the ground with the sweetest smile on her lips. She had been set free, she was home.

Waking Up To Reality

The inspiration for this segment of a story is from a picture out of an IKEA furniture magazine. I would pick a room and imagine what type of person lived there and then write a short story about them.

Tick, tick, tick, Kerry loved the sound of the keys of her computer as she typed. ‘Darkness closed ‘round him, he tried to thrash his way out, but it clung to him like a heavy blanket. He couldn’t breathe! Help! His mind screamed inside. He opened his eyes, water was all around him! How did he get there? He couldn’t move, he just kept sinking, he needed air! Something grabbed him from behind, and then…’ “And then what?” Kerry thought aloud. She hated writers’ block, just when she got to a good part in the story, she got stuck and it could take days to get some inspiration. Maybe I just need a break. She thinks to herself as she gets up and turns on the T.V. “Do you see stuff that’s not there?” a TV ad for some medication was on. Kerri watched the lady, with a cheesy fake smile on her face; list the signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. “Do you have trouble sleeping at night because of vivid nightmares?” “I’ve got it!” Kerri exclaims out loud. She turns off the TV and rushes over to her laptop. ‘And then… he woke up. He saw he had kicked the blankets off the bed. Only a dream… only a dream. He told himself in the dead silence he could hear his heart thumping like a drum. Thud, thud, thud. When it finally slowed down he got up and paced in the moonlight streaming in through his window. Another dream, it was so real… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. He thought to himself.’ “There!” Kerri said aloud, hitting the save button and closing the laptop. Her stomach rumbled, how long had it been since she had eaten? She couldn’t remember. Was it hours… days? I better eat. She told herself heading to her tiny kitchen. How long was I sitting there in the dark? She thought as she suddenly realized that it was pitch black outside. She flipped on the light in the kitchen and opened the fridge. She sighed, it was empty. Guess it’ll be pizza… again. She sighed even deeper and headed to the phone. Reality was so tough. Why couldn’t she just stay in her imagination, there, at least she had some control over things.

9/11

This is a quick poem I wrote, inspired by 9/11. 

"Always Forgive, Never Forget"

Black smoke fills the skies, people’s screams, heartbroken cries. Dancing flames leap out open windows, in an instant, young wives become lonely widows. 

Journeying

The sun is my lamp

And the moon my nightlight at camp

The trees are my chapel

Without a penny to my name yet joys I have ample

The mountain peaks are where I sing God’s praise

And in the valleys I lay and watch the sheep graze

I’m always journeying

 

Through snow and through rain

Though the worldly sins are ever burdening

I keep journeying to light and a place with no more pain