Evil shall be called evil.

If I was peddling melodies with tongue-twisted falsehoods,
You'd still buy my lies, and you'd swear they were real good,
Because you're just another puppet in the dark domain,
And you need a real rescue, from all that's profane.
Calling evil good and good evil the same,
Making a mockery of the Lord and saying you call on His Name,
But, you stand sparse, with no fruit, in shame,
Pretending you love him, but it's really the devil you claim,
Turn, brother, turn, escape the coming Day,
When the bronze feet step down, and the blazing gaze penetrates.
Turn, brother, turn, put away your false gods,
The Lord is not mocked, a Shepherd bringing his rod.

One last chance.

The depths of despair knuckle-wrapped around the wheel,
An air of no care, directing us to seven seals,
When it's finished, they're no deals.
When loves diminished, they're no appeals.
So wakeup and turn around before you're broken to kneel.

Daily dip

Page flip, pen dip, dark blots drip off my pen's tip
Before I scribble scrawl my thoughts on the dead tree's skin,
Reminding me that writing requires inspiration.

While the war cries rise from Israeli skies,
And Hamas leaders die, still Intelligence lies,
You remain unmoved, all is before Your eyes.

Three-line musings like headlines, eyeball magnetic,
This mind's restlessness,
Like a journeyman, poetry gone peripatetic.