Death is Coming (poem by me)

Our days are numbered.
Nothing can stop death,
Not…

an ambulance,
a brick building,
a charmed chance,
a dome ceiling,
an escape pod,
a fixed fund,
a greenback wad,
a handgun,
an iPhone,
jewels or gems,
a kind grandmum,
likeable friends,
mating or marriage,
a notable musician,
overprotective parents,
powerful ammunition,
qualified doctors,
radical diets,
service helicopters,
trusted advice,
an unyielding cause,
a vaccination,
a watchdog,
xenogenication,
a youthful appearance,
or a zealous perseverance.

Do you know you need a Savior?
Don’t wait for more inspiration,
Now is the time of God’s favor,
Now is the day of salvation.

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” —Revelation 3:20

The Depraved (poem by me)

The heavy wooden door creaks,
A half-dead butler speaks,
"Welcome to the House of Horrors,
Time to meet some fiendish freaks."

You can feel free to rove and roam,
To me, every inch is well known,
Because this house is my own mind,
I'm always trapped in my grim home.

Morals may seem out of place,
My conscience is a wide open space,
My lack of empathy is chilling,
But my rage stokes the fireplace.

How did you get a Bible in—
Past the freaks and heavy sin?
Read another cleansing verse,
Teach me freedom and salvation.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and 
will forgive us our sins and purify us from all 
unrighteousness." —1 John 1:9

When the Beginning Is the End (poem by me)

I wish...
...our community treasured life;
I wish...
...she wasn't a deer caught in a headlight;
I wish...
...the law protected you;
I wish...
...my words had gotten through;
Then...
...maybe you would have been born;
Then...
...you would be a cause to rejoice instead of to mourn. 

"Children are a blessing and a gift from the Lord."--Psalm 127:3

*This poem is dedicated to aborted children. Fellow Americans, please vote 
for the party (Republican or Democratic) that represents your view on 
abortion. If you regret receiving an abortion, find forgiveness and healing 
in a SAVIOR.

 

Border Crossing (poem by me)

Dying is like border crossing,
That’s what my dead uncle told me,
Being a ghost is like that time
He spent a year in Canada.

Your last breath is a passport if
Dying is like border crossing,
The last beat of your heart a mere
Flutter in the vast universe.

Saint Peter will greet you at the
Pearly turnstile in heaven if
Dying is like border crossing,
Demons will frisk you and find sin.

You will plead the blood of Jesus,
All those sins will be forgiven,
Pete will say, “Welcome to heaven,”
Dying is like border crossing.

*Some of my poems are biographical, but this one happens not to be about anything that happened to me in my lifetime. This poem is just me mashing words together to make a quatern poem that (I hope) honors God by sharing the true story of salvation. Thanks for reading and God bless!

© 2016 Kim Bond

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