Labyrinth of Sins

I’m standing on the edge of the water.

Looking through the glass to you on the other side.

Iv’e tried to reach through to touch you.

But the wall remains impenetrable, and we’re separated by one thing.

I’m lost in a labyrinth of sins.

Walls of mirrors keep leading me back to this same spot.

The mistakes Iv’e made haunt me to this day.

I’m lost in a labyrinth of sins.

I gaze into the dark down the paths that I have taken.

Wishing there was a light to lead me through.

Iv’e tried to walk alone but just get lost in all these shadows.

The pain keeps coming back and we’re separated by one thing.

I’m lost in a labyrinth of sins.

Curtains of darkness keep leading me back to this same path.

The paths Iv’e strayed down haunt me to this day.

I’m lost in a labyrinth of sins.

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Planting Your Spring Garden

Plant three rows of peas:

Peace of Mind

Peace of Heart

Peace of Soul

Plant four rows of squash:

Squash Gossip

Squash Indifference

Squash Grumbling

Squash Selfishness

Plant four rows of lettuce;

Lettuce be Faithful

Lettuce be Kind

Lettuce be Patient

Lettuce Love One Another

No garden is complete without turnips:

Turnip for Meetings

Turnip for Service

Turnip to help One Another

To conclude out garden we must have thyme:

Thyme for Each Other

Thyme for Family

Thyme for Friends

Water Freely with patience and cultivate with love.                                                            There is much fruit in your garden because you reap what you sow!

Written by the hands of a mortal.

Made by the heart of a sinner.

The feeble thoughts of a hypocrite.

The hollow words of a human.

I write these stories not to get sympathy.

I write them not to earn likes.

I write them to bless.

Mixed Emotions

I’m broken inside, hurt and in pain.

Mixed emotions wracking my brain.

Sadness, regret, anger, peace.

My soul aces, a forever crease.

To loose someone I know, a person, a pet.

Memories flood back, the emotion regret.

To remember their pain, their love to protect me.

It churns inside, sadness haunts me.

To feel they had longer to live.

Anger blinds me,  it’s hard to forgive

But to understand God has a reason.

To know He brings new seasons.

It stirs a feeling deep inside.

Peace fills my heart, it will never die.

 

Fear

In the darkness a shadow hides.

Ugly, black, it has no shape.

Most people avoid it, they quickly look away.

But no, it lives within me,

the shadow called Fear.

I did not know, I did not care,

I carefully hid this shadow, this fear.

Soon it grew. It overcame me.

I was afraid. It plagued me.

Finally in tears, shaking with fear.

I called out to God.

“Help me!”

Yelled at the shadow.

“Leave me!”

Now I’m free!

The puppet I call Brooke

I’ve been hiding behind these layers,

setting up a false front,

covering all these scars.

You don’t know who I really am.

I put myself together, to look like I have control.

But really inside, I have a crumbling soul.

I gather all my broken pieces, glue them back together.

Then go out in public and say my life is great.

I have a few “friends” maybe one or two.

They say they really know me, all my likes and dislikes.

Not even I know those things.

But one thing only I know, and all my friends don’t.

Is that they made friends with my ghost.

The puppet I call Brooke.

Spring and New Life

Blogging and story writing have been one of the last things I do these days, with spring here and plus twenty degree weather I have been outside soaking up the sun. The trees are finally growing leaves, the lawn has already had its first mowing, and the animals are making room in this world for their young. And since I’m home schooled I have already finished the school year. I’ll post when I can!!

Timothy Thursday

For kings, and for all that are in authority;                                                                                that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.                                                                                Timothy 2:2

Lol I missed posting the other day so I changed it to Timothy Thursday only for today!!

Real Life?

The past year I have been stressed and rather cranky. Real life sucked and I was just gonna have to deal with it, or was the life I was living really Real Life. Just the other day my brother, mom and I were having  a conversation about the fact that my brother is always in a different world, an imaginary world. I remember when I traveled to my own worlds too, in the past I was a very imaginative kid. And since this stage of being a big grouch started, I noticed my note books have remained untouched in the box in my closet, and my blog has been dull and empty. Mom was telling my brother (and partly me) that this wasn’t real life that I was living, and in reality real life is pretty imaginary. When you think about it, real life involves  angels, demons, and spiritual battles using literal weapons that can cause great damage or bring wholesome victory. I’ve been pondering that conversation and I realized that all along I have been missing the point of real life. I was for so long living in an imaginary world that I had made up, and without knowing was torturing myself with the creations of my own mortal, and anything but sinless mind. I hope to escape this world of hopelessness and run away to the worlds I long to be in, and greatly miss from the past.

Orphans

They pick through rubble,                                                                                                            once their home.

Their hearts are broken,                                                                                                         families gone.

They look for food,                                                                                                                          now alone.

They close their eyes,                                                                                                                against lonely years.

Orphans by war,                                                                                                                                    cry salty tears.

No Mercy

Bombs fell like rain,                                                                                                                                   not a building was left standing.

So many lives were lost,                                                                                                                            so many families broken.

Bomb shelters lay empty,                                                                                                                        the night cold and quiet.

The raid was quick, unexpected,                                                                                                           the innocent killed by a motto.

“No Mercy”

Only Him

Only the hand of the Maker                                                                                                         could touch the broken, and fix it.

Only the voice of the Healer                                                                                                         could comport the hurt, and heal it.

Only the breath of the Creator                                                                                                   could breath life into still lungs, and make them live.

A Dream

I had a dream, in that dream my family and I had lived through a terrible war. I was captured, and being dressed like a boy I was known as a boy. The thought of escape was always on my mind, and once the war stopped I fulfilled that plan. Fleeing south into the mountains, then wandering west towards the sea,where I sailed for days across the beaten waters. When we had docked I journeyed north, catching rides on trucks and trains carrying wounded soldiers. I dropped off the last train in a small town, my town. The town was near ruins yet small stores and some homes remained standing. I trekked across town and stopped at a livery stable. There I sold the stolen cigars I had in my pocket to make some money. No one recognized me, and I was looked at as an orphaned street urchin selling cigars for a little coin. Finally after I had sold the last cigar and carried ten dollars in my vest pocket, I bought a young ill-tempered mule. Then I rode out into the country where my family’s ranch hopefully remained.

-B