Hell

Make-up cannot hide our scars,
Broken things never fixed.
Stars hide in perpetual dark sky,
Nothing stems the blood bath
And grief goes on and on and on. 

With no new morning, sunrise
To start afresh, beg for mercy,
Ask for time. 

We never thought about it.
No one ever told us
It would feel so real.
We see through this fixed chasm,
Away from shrieking:
A Party,
Millions at The Wedding Banquet of all time.
We glimpse those happy ones from here. 

Oh for some cool water
To quench our never ending thirst.
We’ve heard
They drink from the Well of Life himself. 

If only we’d known,
Not dismissed His claims;
That someone had told us the truth –
Hell is inane endless existence,
Cut off from the God of good things;
Where sleep brings no relief, escape,
And nothing can halt these fires.

(Matthew 13:42, Mark 9:43, Luke 16:19-31, John 4:7-15)

Religion is dead

I have to say this.

When will it sink in?

We are broken, fragile, fallen.
Imperfect
like this tarnished dying world.

So why do we try

To tame our tongues;
Climb to Heaven;
Save others by ourselves;

Be morally superior,
condemning everyone else?

Are we going through the motions,
Mouthing words
Devoid of meaning,
Blindly following without asking why?

Religion is dead.

Jesus drove the last nails in its coffin.

Why pass over life to the full
For those things
which chew
then spit you out?

His love is much more than a drug.