The blisters that don’t hurt

The burn that did.

To keep the chapped lips

That lie within.

To you I write

To miss and have your rite

Love’s Lust

The appeal of the apparent

To clench thy teeth is to be at will in a box

To be studying is to be researching the within.

Sometimes unworthy but always worth

The nails that grow long are renewing

Surprising to the touch

To exist is to be sentient

Denial a stemming, seeping

Forth worth

Enrapture

I could give a damn about waiting through the movie,

But more importantly – what do you think?

Understanding is the Devil

Looming in Disguise.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Savory Satan.

And Satan greeted me with glee,
He said, “How are you, can’t you see,
That you are in my world to stay?
I own your soul and you will pay.”

And voices taunted, visions swelled,
In total darkness, in this Hell,
I begged and begged for sweet release,
A little hope, a little peace.

And then a ‘savior’ came to me,
With powder white, “I’ll set you free,
If in your veins you take me in,
You’ll feel alive, like you can win.”

I tried to fight against this foe,
To turn from what he would bestow,
But in the end surrendered all,
And set myself up for a fall.

The powder melted in the spoon,
I felt the rush and very soon,
Was walking on the razor’s edge,
With bloody feet upon this ledge.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Razor’s Edge.

With emotions at the breaking point and tempers running wild,
Though he said he was the victim, he was more like Satan’s child,
He was angry and so empty and confused at how he felt,
And he knew that very soon his life would melt.

For he couldn’t stand the pressure and he couldn’t stand the heat,
Though he tried to live with reason he just knew that he was beat,
So he struck at those who hurt him and the ones who caused him pain,
And the ones he loved he treated with distain.

And though many tried to help him, he just pushed them all away,
Yet if only he had listened, he would not be here today,
But it’s done and it is over and he lives within this cell,
And it’s here that he will bid his last farewell.

And he’s fighting with the demons of a life he used to lead,
And his wounded soul is bleeding, for he planted wild seed,
And he lies inside this chamber, behind bars that will not bend,
And it’s here his life is coming to an end.

They would call him ‘dead man walking’ as he ate his final meal,
And the judges wouldn’t listen as he gave his last appeal,
Now his trembling heart is pounding as he’s strapped inside this chair,
“I’m the victim and it really isn’t fair.”

For he felt his life was drowning in much ambiguity,
Now his soul will meet the future, which is called Eternity,
Where he’ll fight the many demons of a life he used to lead,
And his wounded soul will suffer, cry and bleed.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at The Execution.

The gates were swung open, and that which I saw,
Both kept me in silence, and left me in awe,
The City of God, with its streets of pure gold,
The Lord’s Holy City, as scripture foretold.

Another voice spoke, saying, “This is God’s home,
You’ll live here forever, no longer to roam,
For God’s with His people, and with them He’ll dwell,
You made it to Heaven, while Satan’s in Hell.”

I saw a great river, like crystal so clear,
I walked to the river, and as I got near,
I saw that it flowed from the throne-room of God,
I looked on His face, and again I was awed.

“Welcome, my child, I’m glad you are here,
Where there is no sorrow, worry or fear,
You’ll have no more sickness, crying or pain,
Your sins have been washed by my Son’s crimson stain.”

I fell on my knees and cried like a child,
He lifted me up as He gave me a smile,
I knew I was loved and no longer alone,
For I was in Heaven; I found my way home.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Welcome Home.