The mercy of God fills the heart Of the blessed souls that will depart But as the light fades, the night grows long For the sake of the fight, make the coffee strong
It might be hours; it might be days Only confusion can absolve your sins away This is a need desperate for serenity Restless as it is for all eternity
Unclean spirits call out the name Seeking the belittlement that will bring shame Prayers seek to vanquish darkness by light For the sacred children, precious in His sight
The demon seeks to destroy from the inside Aware of every sin and every bit of pride On the knees in prayer before we tumble We fight with all our prayers not to crumble
Our Father forgives all our repented sins That we might yet become pure again If only it was that it was so simple To remove the guilt felt inside the temple
(c) August 26, 2023 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Destroying species is like tearing pages out of an unread book, written in a language humans hardly know how to read, about the place where they live.” -Holmes Rolston III, professor of philosophy (b. 1932)
“As parents, we can have no joy, knowing that this government is not sufficiently lasting to ensure any thing which we may bequeath to posterity: And by a plain method of argument, as we are running the next generation into debt, we ought to do the work of it, otherwise we use them meanly and pitifully. In order to discover the line of our duty rightly, we should take our children in our hand, and fix our station a few years farther into life; that eminence will present a prospect, which a few present fears and prejudices conceal from our sight.” – Thomas Paine, Common Sense, 1776
Our sins will seek us out Putting holes in hearts to fill with doubts If evil wasn't real, there'd be no need for God That's a paradox that burns us, however odd
There in the ashes of a cold burning fire Are the remnants of our lust and desires Christ's child cries from hunger While the shadows of the world pull us under
Are prayers worthless when the child dreams awake These are the curses of Heaven that are at stake Regardless of evil, God is present everywhere Even in the blasphemy of a living nightmare
Beware your sins; they will seek you out Riveting your soul as it's riddled with doubt It will require faith to return one's soul Over the gateway to the Devil, who is out of control
Trauma makes a soul desperate for its correction As Satan pulls from the nether direction Making an innocent child wholly vulnerable But a mother's love can make her child invincible
(c) August 25, 2023 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“We owe those [Kabul Airport] Gold Star families everything. We owe them transparency, we owe them honesty, we owe them accountability if appropriate. We owe them the truth about what happened to their loved ones.” – Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Mark Milley
It would be about time the truth comes out, General Milley. Let’s start with your reporting that the Afghanis were able to defend their own country. But yes the Gold Star Families deserve full transparency and your resignation.
Love of witchcraft presents the evidence That the ability to influence is no coincidence As they open up evil, door by door And find a craven audience wanting more
The portal to desires some wish to explore Open up to all, beginning on the ground floor As step by step, the danger grows And innocence is lost before the world knows
Hidden away like a question unasked We intuit our way through questionably tasked The charade finds its way as if a game In which the grandmaster gives the visitors the blame
As if to make it the children who have bidden To bite the fruits of the forbidden Each taste leads to yet another Each deliciously better than the last other
They run as they do from the light Scattered like shadows in the night Messengers of pleasure enticed by each bite Bringing a perceived treasure that should fright
The contract offers freedom as a lie While enslaving the masses by and by As the game works yet remains hidden While the door brings us to the forbidden
Opened by desires of our own device The partakers ignore the warmings of holy advice Knock, Knock! So it goes in multiple ways Until just as suddenly, we're in the end of days
Amused by all that is found along the way As if engaged in an unholy child's play Charmed as we are, they wonder why then Are there pleasurable secrets kept forbidden
(c) August 24, 2023 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Speak seldom, but to important subjects, except such as particularly relate to your constituents, and, in the former case, make yourself perfectly master of the subject.” – George Washington (1787)
After a charlatan's talk of romance Shuffled by in the cards of chance Friends from the other side tell the tale Half past the shaded gates of Hell
It seems that games of chance are legendary As sleight of hands make truth contrary To believe that it's all down to royalty When there are as many chances as fish in the sea
The hopes are high, even when funds are low But a little side-hustle and who's to know The color of true freedom is often green However you get it, if you know what I mean
Shaking the hand of a poor sinner's hand Changes the odds if try to understand With a wink and a nod, signed on the dotted line It makes no difference, when you've signed that line
On and on, as the night dances into the masked ball For those who wished more than they can even recall Shining there in the Devil's waltz under the spotlight Deceived like a heinous whisper into the blackest night
(c) August 23, 2023 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
