The Saltiness of the Believer

Time has a way,

Of decomposing all things.

Be they mineral or organic,

Time is the culprit,
 For the rot that it brings.

Ship’s made to sustain,

An enemies torpedo shot!

Lay at the bottom of the ocean,

Engulfed in rot!

Planes that once flew,

Record heights.

Now sit rusting alone

Incapable of flight!

Much is lost,

To time and rot.

For when one is not preserved,

Time demands, that they be forgot!

The Bible tells Christians,

“You are the salt of the earth.”

But if we lose of our savor,

Then what are we worth?

Salt preserves,

Though the saltless rot!

Salt leaves a taste after it’s gone,

The saltless does not.

Are we that taste

Not soon to be forgotten?

Or have we lost our saltiness,

Like the tasteless and rotten?

We are called to add taste,

To any situation. 

Not to throw in with the crowd, 

Or chase our temptations. 

So if things seem a bit,

 Rotten or bland.

Just remember,

Add some taste,

 right where you stand!

#GODLovesSalt

 

 



Now, Its to late (Home of the Damned)

Past the gates of time,

Lies an eternal domain.

Built eons ago

For the god of all shame.

Man was never intended 

To inhabit this land.

Until the spirit of rebellion,

Became embraced by man.

You'll find no mercy here,

In this kingdom of grief.

Just mans final reward,

for his lack of belief.

It's a place that smells,

Of great sickening and rot.

Where sins are the flame,

And the fire dieth not.

Forgiveness and mercy,

They aren't found here.

Just misery and grief,

with darkness and fear.

With your destiny now settled,

As you pass through the gate.

The sign on the wall reads,

NOW IT'S TO LATE.

To late to change,

To late to receive. 

To late for the Gift, 

For all that believed. 

There are no parties here,

For the morally corrupt. 

Rather, your sentence is now set,

And your appeals are up.



Home of The Damned



Past the gates of time,

Lies an eternal domain.

The master of which,

Is the god all shame.

You'll find no mercy here,

In this kingdom of grief.

Just mans final reward,

for his lack of belief.

It's a place that smells,

Of great sickening and rot.

Where sin is the flame,

And the fire dieth not.

Forgiveness and mercy,

They aren't found here.

Just misery and grief,

with darkness and fear.

With your destiny now settled,

As you pass through the gate.

The sign on the wall,

reads,
 NOW IT'S TO LATE.

Your home is now,

The most miserable of lands.

Home of the lost,

Home of the damned.